Harry Potter and the Ring of Power
by Martine Lewis
Summary: After a year in Auror training, Harry resumes his relationship with Ginny and is sent on a special mission. No relations with Tolkien's Lord of the Ring, none at all!
1. Prologue

**Title:** Harry Potter and the Ring of Power

**Author:** Martine Lewis  
**Genre:** Drama, Romance, Angst  
**Warnings:** sexual situations, violence  
**Rating:** M  
**Setting:** Post DH

**Ship:** H/G  
**Summary:** After a year in Auror training, Harry resumes his relationship with Ginny and is sent on a special mission.

**Author's Notes:** This story is completely written however, editing takes a long long time. So, if you begin reading, you will get it all, I just don't know how long it will take.

Also, I would like to give a special thanks to my beta ZephyrDragon for her hard work and patience with me.

Oh! And let's not forget that I don't own Harry Potter and the Potterverse. It is all property of JK Rowling.

PRELUDE – May 3, 1998 – the day after the Battle of Hogwarts

Harry woke up that afternoon sore and hungry, but rested for the first time in a year. He opened his eyes and put his glasses on. A plate of sandwiches was waiting for him on the bedside table next to his four poster bed in Gryffindor tower. He ate, got dressed, and descended the spiral stairway to the Gryffindor common room. It was empty except for Ginny who was sitting by a window, looking outside at the people who were already busy repairing the castle.

"Ginny," he called softly, his heart skipping a beat at the sight of her.

She was even prettier than when he had last seen her, the previous night. She looked up at him sadly.

"I thought you were dead," she said, her eyes as dry as when he had broken up with her the year before. "I really thought you were dead," she said again in a whisper.

Harry could not help himself. He went to her, took her in his arms, and kissed her passionately like she had done on his last birthday. He had wanted to simply kiss her again for so long. The smell of her was intoxicating. The feel of her in his arms was making his head spin, and his body responded in ways that were both painful and pleasurable at the same time.

"Ginny… I – I," he began in a whisper, his cheek against her head, holding on to her as if his life depended on it.

But what he was about to say, Ginny never knew, as the portrait behind them opened. Harry and Ginny reluctantly let go of one another and looked at the entrance. Professor McGonagall had walked in, followed by Kingsley Shacklebolt.

"There he is, Minister," said Professor McGonagall, showing Harry.

"Mr Potter," said Kingsley formally. "Can I have a word?"

Harry gave a curt nod. Kingsley indicated a chair by the fireplace, which Harry took. Ginny returned to her window while Professor McGonagall departed, closing the door behind her.

"Harry, while you were sleeping," began Kingsley, taking the chair in front of Harry, "I offered all who fought in the battle special permission to begin Auror training even if they didn't obtain their N.E.W.T.s. You see, the Auror Office suffered heavy casualties during the war, and we do have quite a few Death Eaters on the run… I know you've always wanted to be an Auror, Harry, so I think it's only fair to offer it to you as well."

"Er..." began Harry. "I would love to join the Aurors, sir."

"In that case, I will make the arrangements. We know you have been... away for the better part of the year, but due to our dire need, we would like you to begin training in two days…"

"Two – two days?" interrupted Harry.

He had been on the run for almost a year and he didn't know if he really wanted to be thrown into something else without having a chance to rest.

And there was Ginny.

He turned to look at her. She was already looking at him from her window. He did not want to go so quickly. He wanted to spend time with her and his friends, and have a normal life for a change. But being an Auror was all he had ever wanted to do, and he didn't know if he would ever get another chance at it, or if he would ever pass the N.E.W.T.s to get in at a later time.

"Go, Harry," said Ginny quietly, as if she had read his internal debate. "Go… We will all be here when you're done with training."

Two days later, after a night spent talking with Ginny about the ordeal of the last year, and sharing quite a few kisses in front of the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room, he left her behind and entered a life of extensive training where 'normal life' and 'time' lost all meaning.


	2. Chapter 1 The Chase

**Author's Notes: **Wow! Chapter 1 already! Like I said before, the story is completely written... Editing is what takes a long time.

Again, I would like to give a special thanks to my beta ZephyrDragon for her hard work and patience with me.

Potterverse is not mine. It is all JK Rowling. Let's sincerely thank the Lord to have given her the insight of creating this wonderful world for us to write in

Please take a minute to leave a review or drop me an e-mail at lewis_martine (at) yahoo (dot) ca

Thank you all!

CHAPTER 1 – June 2, 1999 – The Chase

Harry was waiting with an apparent air of bored patience. However, he didn't feel it at all. He had waited so long to catch Alecto and Amycus Carrow, and now that he was so close, he could barely maintain his calm façade.

He had pursued the Carrows full time for the last month, since he had completed his training for the year and joined the Aurors for the summer, pending his return to training at the end of September. The Carrows' trail had become pretty cold since their escape from Hogwarts after the Battle. As they were not considered the most dangerous Death Eaters, their recapture had not been a Ministry priority.

However, it was a priority to Harry, and since he was with the Aurors only for the summer, he had been given permission to investigate them. These two Death Eaters may not have been the closest to Voldemort, but they had tortured students, some of them Harry's friends like Neville, Luna, Ginny, and numerous others. They deserved to be caught and sent to Azkaban for what they had done to mostly defenceless kids. Besides, their escape after the Battle had always intrigued Harry.

Harry was laying in wait in the shadow of a pile of boxes, in a warehouse near the docks in eastern London. He was supposed to have backup, but for a reason or another, his backup hadn't shown up. It was too late to cancel this meeting which had taken weeks to set.

Harry's informant was sitting on a chair in the middle of the room, magically bound to it. This had been a necessary precaution in order to prevent the informant from being discovered as such.

Harry heard a loud crack announcing that somebody had just Apparated into the vicinity. He waited, his wand in his hand. He could hear a set of footsteps walking towards his location, right around the pile of boxes. The person passed Harry's hiding place and came into view of the bound informant. He moved closer and suddenly stopped in his tracks, looking around, worried.

"Hello, Amycus," Harry said, stepping from his hiding place, wand still at the ready.

"_Stupefy!_" shouted Amycus, turning around.

Amycus was such a notorious bad shot that Harry barely had to move to dodge the spell.

"_Petrificus totallus!_" Harry said but Amycus ducked just in time.

"_Sectumsempra!_" bellowed Amycus.

Surprised by the accuracy of this shot, Harry attempted to duck but only partially managed to get out of the way. He barely saved himself from the full blow of the spell and a shallow cut appeared on his right cheek and rib cage, cutting his shirt.

"_Expelliaramus!_" shouted Harry.

Amycus's wand went flying from his hand, over a row of boxes on the left. Amycus, now disarmed, fled through the row of boxes on the right. Harry ran down the row next to him, in hot pursuit. He came to an opening and crossed into Amycus' row. He wasn't there. Harry casted a sealing spell under his breath, a spell which would prevent anybody from going in or out of the building, magically or otherwise. Breathing hard, he listened carefully, trying to hear Amycus' footsteps. Other than the area where his informant was bound, the warehouse was casted in semi-darkness and it was hard to see.

Thinking that it was time to try and tricked Amycus in the open, he fished in his pocket and retrieved his gold lighter. The lighter was a gift from Ginny. She had sent it to him for his 18th birthday, while he was in training. The lighter was magical, showing Ginny's skill at enchanting Muggle objects, a common trait of the Weasley family. Instead of flames, the lighter emitted a whitish blue light, the same colour as a _Lumos_. In addition, while the light was not warm, it could burn away ropes. Harry loved this lighter, and he had used it more than once to trap people or to provide much needed light when he needed his wand for something else.

He flipped on the lighter and casted _Wingardium Leviosa_ on it. He made it float a few yards in front of him, giving him a wider range of light to search by. Still listening for Amycus, he began to search the warehouse, silently walking along each row of boxes, and quietly making his way toward his informant. He had been searching for a few minutes and was slowly walking towards where the interaction had begun when he heard footsteps running towards him. He barely had time to turn before Amycus rammed into him, his shoulder hitting Harry's midsection, effectively knocking the breath out of him. The shock made Harry lose his wand and Amycus' momentum threw him across the room. Harry fell, hitting his left arm hard enough for it to break on a roof support beam. Amycus then rolled away from Harry, grabbed the now extinguished lighter from the ground where it had fallen, and ran in the direction of his lost wand.

Harry, his left arm limp at his side, rolled to his own wand, seized it and looked up to see Amycus, thirty feet away, Disapparate in front of his eyes.

_Wh – what?_ thought Harry. _How? _

His sealing spell should have prevented Amycus from Disapparating. Feeling that he was no longer safe, Harry ran to the informant, untied him, and the pair Disapparated.

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After dropping his informant to safety, Harry arrived at the Auror's office. Still high on adrenaline, Harry did not feel the pain from his broken arm and his cut, but he did feel the rage.

Amycus Carrow had escaped him, again!

The first time was understandable since Amycus had seen him coming, and Alecto had been with him. But this time was inexplicable. This capture would have been ridiculously easy had his backup appeared, especially since Alecto had not come. Amycus was not the most brilliant wizard in the world but, Harry had to admit, he had never expected a direct physical attack. In any magical contest, Harry could hold his own but he had not expected Amycus to be so reckless as to attack him physically.

Harry looked around his desk and violently kicked his waste bin in frustration, sending papers flying everywhere. The Auror's office became quiet and everybody turned to look at him. He pulled out his chair and dropped into it, grinding his teeth.

"Potter!" called Head Auror Holmes, Harry's boss, from the only closed office of his floor.

_Now what?_ thought Harry, still boiling with rage.

While Muggles believed Sherlock Holmes to be a fictional character, he and his brother Mycroft were in fact wizards, both of whom attended Hogwarts. Although both brothers had impressive intellectual capabilities, Mycroft was sorted into Ravenclaw while Sherlock ended up in Gryffindor.

Head Auror Sherlock Mycroft Holmes was the direct descendant of the famous Sherlock Holmes and Muggle Irene Adler, who had always impressed Sherlock by her intellectual capabilities. Holmes had attended Hogwarts as a Ravenclaw, like his ancestor's brother. His attention to detail and investigating expertise, which were comparable to his ancestor, had landed him the Head Auror position under Minister Shacklebolt, succeeding Gawain Robards who had left the office at the end of the war.

Harry stood up and walked into Head Auror Holmes' office.

"So, Potter, what happened?" asked Head Auror Holmes calmly, creating a significant contrast with Harry's state of mind.

"He escaped! And my backup never bothered to show up!" raged Harry, pacing in front of the Head Auror's desk. "I would have had him but he escaped! I swear he had help!" and Harry continued with a long tirade of what had happened. "I was stupid! I should have known he would pull something like this! I reacted like a beginner!"

Head Auror Holmes chuckled as Harry _was_, all things considered, a beginner. However, Harry's contribution to the department was already quite impressive and had drawn the attention of several high ranking officials within the Ministry, in addition to Minister Shacklebolt, who kept a close watch on Harry's career.

Head Auror Holmes appraised Harry's appearance for a few seconds. He did not look good. In addition to his numerous visible injuries, he was pale and had dark lines under his sunken eyes. He looked like he had seriously over exerted himself, and hadn't slept in quite a while.

"Harry, when is the last time you took time off?"

"Time... time off, sir?" asked Harry taken aback.

"Yes, Harry, time off from work or training," answered Head Auror Holmes calmly.

"I… I don't know, sir," answered Harry, still somewhat short of breath. "I don't think I've taken time off since... I don't know."

"And how many dark wizards have you sent to Azkaban since the end of the war? Of course, without counting the ones that were arrested right after the Battle."

"Only seven, sir," answered Harry quietly, as if he regretted not having caught more.

"Only seven!" said Head Auror Holmes, chuckling again. "In addition to being in training full time for most of that time! You do realize that's more than a fully trained Auror captures in a year, don't you?"

Harry nodded, looking at the floor in front of him. As he calmed down, Harry began to feel an acute pain in his left arm and winced.

"Harry, I want you to take a holiday, starting right now. Two days for every month you have been with us _and_ every person you've sent to Azkaban… and make those working days."

"But, sir!" began Harry. "The Death Eaters…?"

"…will still be here when you come back, Harry.

"This is not a suggestion, Mr. Potter. You _are_ tired and becoming increasingly prone to receiving injuries, let alone hurting somebody else," argued Head Auror Holmes. "I want you to report to the infirmary and I do not want to see you for the next 44 days. _Working_ days."

"But... but that's more than two months!" protested Harry.

"Yes, it is!" answered Head Auror Holmes, deliberately going back to his paperwork.

Harry, resigned to the fact that he would not win this argument, went back to his office, picked up his rucksack, and left for the infirmary.


	3. Chapter 2 The Unexpected

**Author's Notes: **Finally, here is the second chapter. I have entered it in a challenge so here it is for all of you to read.

Like I said before, the story is completely written... Editing is what takes a long time.

Again, I would like to give a special thanks to my beta ZephyrDragon for her hard work and patience with me.

Potterverse is not mine. It is all JK Rowling. Let's sincerely thank the Lord to have given her the insight of creating this wonderful world for us to write in J

Please take a minute to leave a review or drop me an e-mail at lewis_martine (at) yahoo (dot) ca

Thank you all!

Chapter 2 – The Unexpected

Harry had been on forced holidays for only two weeks when he came back home to find Hermione and Ron waiting in his dining room.

It was late, very late. Harry had spent most of the day riding the Underground. It helped him keep his mind off things. And he had a lot of things on his mind, things he needed to sort out. The Underground closing at night was the only reason he came home at all.

Hermione looked at him, caught between being worried and angry. To make matters worse, Harry's appearance had deteriorated over the last couple of weeks. He was not sleeping well, if at all, and did not have appetite for anything.

"Where have you been?" Hermione finally exploded. "You don't write! You don't visit! And when I went to your office this morning, they told me you were taking time off and they didn't know when you would be back! What has got into you, not giving us news like this? And Ron says he hasn't heard from you in three weeks!"

Hermione looked away, visibility distressed, while Harry stared at her speechless.

"Now, we have tickets for the Chudley Cannons Quidditch game on Saturday and you_ are_ going to come!" she added, turning back to Harry and pointing her finger at him.

Harry remained silent, not knowing what to say.

"Oh, Ron! Talk some sense into him!" she said and stormed out of the dining room.

Both Ron and Harry watched her leave.

"Mate, I told her a bloke needs his space, you know… but it didn't work," said Ron, looking at Harry. "She's worried sick about you, you know. I think you better come on Saturday."

Harry gazed at his shoes, not sure if he wanted to go but at the same time, feeling a little guilty that his two best friends were worried about him.

"You'll come, right?" insisted Ron gently

"Yeah," finally answered Harry, glancing at him.

"Good," said Ron, putting a hand on Harry's shoulder. "I'll see you this Saturday around lunch time, at my house, okay? We'll eat before heading out... And by the way, you should eat something; you look dreadful."

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Harry Apparated into Ron and Hermione's back garden, hidden from Muggles' eyes by a high Blackthorn hedge. He had been here once before, when he had completed his training session at the end of April. Ron had proudly told him that Hermione, who had done most of the decorating during the Christmas holiday, would be moving in with him at the end of her school year.

Harry looked at his friends' house with an urge to turn around and go home, but he didn't want to face Hermione's wrath again, nor his guilt at worrying her. With a sigh, he walked to the back door and knocked.

"Oh! Hi, Harry!" said Ron, opening the door and letting Harry in the kitchen.

"Ron, is that Harry?" called Hermione from another room towards the front of the house.

"Yeah, it's him."

Walking into the kitchen, Hermione pulled Harry into a tight hug.

"Lunch is on the table," she said, taking his arm and guiding him towards the dining room.

They sat and began to eat a light lunch of sandwiches and salad.

"So, Harry, what have you been up to lately?" asked Hermione before the silence became uncomfortable.

"Oh! Riding the Tube," answered Harry lightly, as if it was perfectly normal for somebody to ride the Underground all day.

"Riding the Tube?" asked Ron, staring at him. "Mate, don't you have anything more interesting to do?"

"No, not really, not since I was forced to take a holiday," answered Harry shortly.

"What? What happened?" asked Hermione concerned.

Harry explained how Amycus Carrow had escaped him again, finding, in the retelling, a glimpse of the old camaraderie they used to have when they were at Hogwarts. He found himself missing his years there, when things had been so much simpler, when they had been so innocent, even with the shadow of Voldemort looming over their heads.

"What about you, Hermione?" asked Harry. "You came back from school last Tuesday, didn't you? How many NEWTs? And what about your magical creatures' rights campaign?"

"Actually, I've got outstanding in all my NEWTs, and I've got a job offer with the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures - I'm currently researching the existing laws and regulations on non-human creatures for Minister Shacklebolt. I think that the house-elves and other non-humans' contribution to the war has not gone unnoticed. The Minister has asked me to find all the regulations that are to the disadvantages of non-humans, and to determine how they could be eliminated or modified to improve their conditions."

"Sounds like SPEW all over again," said Harry with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Yeah," answered Hermione with a sincere smile. "However, now I think I can really make a difference."

"What about you?" asked Harry, glancing at Ron.

"The shops are doing great," he answered.

Ron had gone to work with George at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes straight after the war. After the death of his brother, George had seriously thought about abandoning the shop which had closed its Diagon Alley premises during the war when the twins had gone into hiding. However, Ron had convinced George to give it another try. "I'll do it with you," he had said. "And if in a year you want to walk away, I won't stop you." Half-heartedly, George had given in.

Within months, the shop had become an even bigger success than before the war. People who had been constantly in fear during the conflict were now ready to laugh and have fun. Before December had come around, George and Ron had opened a second shop in Hogsmeade, in the old Zonko's location.

"We're branching out some more, now," continued Ron. "You remember the shield hats? We're trying to work some of that magic into other common objects, such as rings and bracelets. You should come by the shop sometime, and see for yourself, you know," invited Ron.

"Yeah, I'll do that."

An hour later, the three of them left for the Chudley Cannons' Quidditch pitch. Ron's favourite team was playing the Holyhead Harpies. To Harry's surprise, Ginny's name was announced on a banner as the newest Chaser for the all women's team.

"Ron, is that – is that Ginny?" he asked, pointing at the banner.

"Yeah," answered Ron dismissively. "One of their Chasers got pregnant and left the team. At the same time, their reserve got an offer from the Caerphilly Catapults. They were pretty desperate for a new Chaser, you know, so they turned to Ginny.

"You should have seen Mum! She went mental! Ginny hadn't even finished school when she was offered the place. Mum threw a fit and insisted Ginny finished school first. To get her off her back, Ginny promised Mum she would. She had to juggle Quidditch practices at school with the Harpies' practices _and_ studying for her NEWTs. It's a wonder she did it all! And on top of it all, Gryffindor won the Quidditch Cup and she passed all her NEWTs. Very impressive, don't you think?"

"Ron, you underestimate your sister," said Hermione with a smile.

"Well, on that one, I probably did," said Ron, not willing to admit it may have been the case on more than just this occasion.

Hermione rolled her eyes, but Harry was no longer paying attention as he was becoming increasingly nervous about the continuous stares and whispers from the crowd of people surrounding them. Not only was he a very well known figure, he was now the prime target for most Death Eaters and dark wizards, and a crowd of hundreds of unknown wizards made him ten times more nervous and jumpy than a ride in the Tube with tens of thousands Muggle strangers.

"Let's find our seats," he suggested, glancing around again.

The game lasted just over two hours and, as usual, the Cannons were horribly defeated by the Harpies by 480 points. Harry had enjoyed looking at Ginny fly and score in her brand new dark green uniform, but he doubted this game was a real display of the extent of her skills, so bad were the Cannons.

"Come, Harry! Ginny will never forgive us if we leave without seeing her," said Hermione after the game.

Grabbing his hand, Hermione guided him off the stands and walked towards the Holyhead Harpies' tent. Harry, still wary of the crowd, looked around at all the people who were now overtly pointing and staring at them.

"Don't mind them, mate," said Ron as if he could read Harry's discomfort. "They're just curious, that's all. It's not every day you see 'legends' walking right past you, you know. They're not dangerous."

"It's not _them_ I'm worried about," said Harry, thinking about how easy it would be for a dark wizard to hide in this crowd.

"Stop it!" exclaimed Hermione when she noticed Harry was still nervous. "You look like you've never been stared at before. After all this time, you should be used to it," she added, misunderstanding his discomfort.

"Doesn't mean I like it!" answered Harry shortly.

However, the crowd was no longer the only thing Harry dreaded. He was worried about Ginny's reaction. He hadn't heard from her, nor had he given her any news in well over two months. He didn't know what to expect. In fact, he was so nervous that his heart was beating faster than it should have, had he only been worried about the crowd, and he felt his legs could barely support him.

"Come on!" said Hermione, pulling on his hand again to make him walk faster.

Ron led the way to the tent set up for the players, oblivious of Harry's growing discomfort. He lifted up the flap, and followed Hermione and Harry inside. Ginny was there, sitting at a table surrounded by fans eager to get her to autograph their Holyhead Harpies' gear.

"How is it up there, Ginny, when you're about to score?" asked a young girl of about seven.

"Fast," answered Ginny, signing the girl's hat. "And sometimes scary when it's raining," she added, looking up at the girl with a smile.

Harry thought he had never seen anyone so beautiful in his life.

"But you're not afraid of anything!" exclaimed an older girl down the row.

Ginny laughed happily.

"Harry Potter! That's Harry Potter!" the crowd began to whisper.

All of a sudden, the conversations stopped and everybody turned towards Harry. Ginny looked up and her brown eyes met his. She became visibly paler, and he wondered if it was in anger, but somehow his fuzzy mind seemed to remember the Weasleys tended to turn red when angry. The next thing he knew, Ginny was running across the tent and throwing herself in his arms.

"Ginny!" said Harry, hugging her, happily surprised by her reaction.

"So, tell me, have you forgotten what quills, parchment, and owls are?" she asked after a few seconds in his arms, visibly divided between being completely angry and overwhelmingly happy to see him.

As he stared at her, Harry had the impression everybody had gone and he wished only one thing: that he would dare kiss her. However, they stood there, staring at one another for what seemed like an eternity, neither of them daring to make the first move and initiate the kiss. Somehow, it seemed to Harry that it hadn't been so complicated in the Gryffindor common room a few years ago when they had won the Quidditch Cup.

"Well, are you going kiss her, mate?" asked a young man from the crowd, intruding on their universe.

Amount the laughter from the crowd, Harry smiled at Ginny, who, also laughing, put her head on his shoulder.

"I missed you, Harry Potter," she whispered against his neck.

"I missed you, Ginny Weasley," he whispered back against her hair.

And he knew at that moment how much he had really missed her.

"But we will have another war on our hands if you don't go back to your fans," he added, chuckling.

"Will you stay?" she asked, pulling away to look at him again.

"He'll be at dinner tonight," answered Ron.

"Eh!" said Harry surprised by the sudden invitation. "Yeah, right!" he added with a smile at Ginny.

Ginny returned his smile and left, walking back towards her table and her line of fans.

"Wow, mate! She did say she missed you but I never thought she missed you _that_ much," said Ron puzzled by his sister's reaction. "And good thing we were there too, with about a few hundred fans or so... Otherwise, who knows what would have happened?"

"Boys!" said Hermione, rolling her eyes.

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Harry, Hermione, and Ron were sitting in the living room when Ginny arrived for dinner. She had showered and Harry could smell her flowery shampoo, a smell he remembered liking for as long as he had known her. Ginny sat on the sofa next to him, taking the only seat left available in the small living room.

"Well, I'm going to get dinner ready now that we're all here," said Hermione, standing up with a smile and walking towards the kitchen.

Ron was entertaining Harry and Ginny with his latest adventure in the Muggle world when Hermione called from the kitchen, "Ron! Need your help right about now!"

"Excuse me," said Ron, standing up and leaving for the kitchen.

Harry and Ginny sat there quietly, not daring to look at one another.

"Seeing anyone?" they both asked at the same time, turning towards one another.

"No," answered Harry, glancing at his hands, chuckling. "You?"

"No," she answered, her face turning slightly pink.

"So, what have you been doing since the last time I heard from you?" asked Harry, finally looking at her.

It wasn't really the question he wanted to ask her. What he really wanted to know was how come she was still single. But he suspected it wasn't the right kind of thing to say.

"Well," answered Ginny. "I finished school…"

She began to tell him how she had been recruited by the Holyhead Harpies, and the few teams she had played since then, but Harry was not listening. He was mesmerized by her voice and her smell, and all he could think about were her lips and how much he wanted to taste them. She was still talking about her last Quidditch trip when he leaned forward and kissed her.

He felt like time had stopped. There was only him and Ginny, and he could have kissed her all day long. He felt so exhilarated that he wondered, for a moment, if Ron or Hermione had slipped _Felix Felicis_ in his drink while at the game.

"Dinner's ready!" called Hermione from the dining room after what seemed but a moment to Harry.

With a sigh, Harry pulled away from Ginny, and gazed at her.

"You have lipstick on your cheek," she said, chuckling, removing it with her fingers.

Once she was done, they stood up. He looked at her for a few seconds, took her hand in his, and gave her a light kiss on her knuckles before leading her to the dining room.


	4. Chapter 3 The Quidditch Game

CHAPTER 3 – The Quidditch Game

A week later, Harry was eating breakfast at his kitchen table while reading the Sunday edition of the _Daily Prophet_ when Ron appeared in the fireplace, his broom in hand and a Quidditch equipment bag on his shoulder.

"Morning, mate!" he said, walking into the kitchen and dropping the bag, and a fair amount of ashes, on the floor. "What are you up to today?" he asked, sitting down at the table and pouring himself a cup of tea.

"Not much, really," answered Harry amused by Ron's familiarity. "You?" asked Harry, eyeing Ron's bag.

"Well, you know, I was on my way to the Burrow for a game of Quidditch with some friends and I was wondering if you would like to join us. You've got your broom back, right? And your Quidditch equipment, yes? I know you haven't played in quite a while, but I thought you might enjoy it, you know."

Upon leaving Privet Drive, Harry had left his Quidditch uniform and equipment behind. At the time, he couldn't take them and most of his other belongings with him. He had fully expected his aunt and uncle to burn the lot. However, upon his arrival at Grimmauld Place after a long period of training, he had found a package on the kitchen table with a note attached to it: "_Mum and Dad wanted to burn these but I thought you may want them back. Big D."_

Harry, wondering why Dudley would go to the trouble of sending him anything, had opened the package reluctantly. Finding all he had left behind made Harry realised the Dementors' attack really had had its benefits after all, and Dudley seemed to be on the road to redemption.

His broom had been another story entirely. The morning after the Death Eaters' chase, a wizard found it in a tree, in a Muggle neighbourhood. Since Firebolts were registered brooms, the wizard turned it in to the Ministry, who locked it in a vault with other belongings confiscated from the wizards and witches who had not support the new regime. At the end of the war, while Percy and some Ministry staff were going through the vault in order to return the belongings to their rightful owners, they had come across the Firebolt and had sent it back to Harry with the Ministry's apologies.

"So, want to come?" asked Ron, bringing Harry's attention back to the conversation.

Remembering the numerous hours he had spent at the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch, Harry thought he would very much enjoy playing again.

"Brilliant!" he said, more enthusiastic that he had been in days. "I'll just go and get ready."

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"Where is everybody?" asked Harry when they arrived at the Burrow by Floo Powder, a few minutes later.

The house was completely empty.

"At the Quidditch pitch," answered Ron. "When Ginny joined the Holyhead Harpies, my brothers and I transformed our old orchard into a real Quidditch pitch, as a gift to her, you know," he explained. "You should see the amount of spells we used to make it Muggle-proof, mate. We even put up invisible barriers to prevent the balls from ending up in the neighbours' fields. And that's without talking about all the invisibility charms we had to perform! But it was worth it," added Ron, nodding. "Ginny was really happy to get her own Quidditch field… I mean, how many people can say they have one, you know? And she was even happier when people began to come and play with her, which was cool, if you ask me."

As Ron explained, he led Harry out the back door and towards the old orchard.

"We even built changing rooms and stands for family and friends," he added.

They entered the stadium and found two groups of players shaking hands in the middle of it. One team was wearing red and the other black.

"Oh, good! You convinced him!" exclaimed Oliver Wood, Harry's former Quidditch Captain, when he saw them.

"It wasn't too hard, really," answered Ron.

Harry's jaw almost dropped when he saw who the other players were. This select group not only included Oliver Wood, keeper for Puddlemere United, but also Viktor Krum from the Bulgarian International team, and an assorted variety of players from the Holyhead Harpies, Wimbourne Wasps, Tutshill Tornadoes and the English International team.

"Our team is in serious need of a Seeker since Charlie can't come anymore," explained Oliver. "Up to it, Potter?"

George Weasley, who was also there, grinned broadly.

"Err... I think," answered Harry not sure at all.

The last time Harry had heard about Krum, he was still the best Seeker in the world. Harry didn't know if he was ready to measure himself against the world renowned Player, even in a friendly match, especially since he was seriously out of practice.

"Ron, who do you play with?" asked Harry when they left for the changing room.

"Me?" asked Ron surprised. "I'm not playing with that lot! I just don't compare, mate. No, I'm the referee," he added with a smile.

Harry began to feel as nervous as the first time he had ever played.

"Do you realise that I haven't played in over two years?" asked Harry.

"Yeah, but you haven't forgotten how to ride a broom, have you? You'll see; it'll be just like when you caught Neville's Remembrall... You didn't need practice then."

Harry changed into his old Hogwarts Quidditch uniform which, to his surprise, was now a little big for him. Then again, maybe he shouldn't have been so surprised. He had never been wanting for food while at Hogwarts, which was definitely not the case while in Auror training.

"You need to change the colour," said Ron, taking out his wand. "You're playing black. _Induviae nigra!" _Harry's uniform turned to black.

They walked out of the lockers and Harry, barely able to hold in his eagerness at flying again, mounted his broom and kicked off from the ground hard. He leaped into the air and flew around the pitch a few times, enjoying the feel of the wind on his smiling face and the air flowing through his hair. The day was sunny and mild, which made it perfect for flying. However, it would make it harder to see the snitch.

"Harry!" yelled Ron from the ground, his wand to his throat to amplify his voice.

Harry flew down and landed next to Ron with a grin on his face.

"Sorry!" he apologised to the awaiting players. "I hadn't had a chance to fly in a while."

"We could see that!" said a woman voice he recognized only too well.

Looking up, Harry saw Ginny standing next to Viktor Krum. She was as beautiful as ever, with her long red hair shining in the sun. As Ron was giving his last instructions, Harry saw Krum whisper something to Ginny, and she laughed in response. He could not help but be jealous, very jealous, in fact. And all of a sudden, it was no longer important that Krum was the best Seeker in the world. What was important was that Harry wanted to beat him, or _had_ to beat him, to show Ginny who was the best.

"Okay, teams! Let's do this!" said Ron who had moved to the middle of the field, and released the balls.

Harry took position and realised Ginny was on the same team as he was. It became even more important for him to get the snitch as he didn't want to let her down.

He mounted his broom again and rose above the field. Ron blew his whistle and the game began. To Harry's surprise, he heard Lee Jordan, accompanied by George, commenting on the game. This made it a lot easier for Harry, as he could follow the game without looking at the players. It quickly became apparent how good and accomplished a player Ginny was. It seemed to Harry that all he could hear was her name, and hearing about Ginny only strengthened his resolved to catch the snitch first.

Deliberately, he flew around the field, searching for the little golden ball, varying his speed and direction to confuse Krum. At the beginning of the game, he tried to keep an eye on his adversary but quickly gave up the idea in favour of searching for the snitch himself, as Krum used a number of feints to try and lure him out.

Harry's team, despite the chasers' best efforts, was losing by 50 points when Krum tried to lure him into a Wronski Feint. At the same moment Viktor began his dive, Harry saw the snitch, looming near the bottom of his team's hoops, on the opposite side of the field from Krum's position. Executing a wide arc in order to make Krum believed he was having another look around the pitch, he went for the golden ball. Only as he drew closer did he accelerate to full speed, and plunge towards it. When Krum realized what Harry was doing, it was simply too late. He was at the other end of the field, and even at maximum speed, Krum could not reach Harry on time to prevent the inevitable.

Among the enthusiastic commentaries of Lee Jordan at the microphone, Harry closed his hand around the snitch and, proud of his accomplishment, flew high over the field, waving it over his head.

"Harry Potter has caught the snitch!" announced Lee Jordan.

Harry circled around the field feeling as good as if he had won a game against the Slytherin. He had outplayed the best Seeker in the world and it had left him feeling quite exhilarated.

He finally landed and the rest of the players ran to him. Upon reaching him, Ginny threw herself in his arms and said, laughing: "You've beaten Viktor Krum, Harry!" Before he knew it, she kissed him. It felt as good as their first kiss after they had won the Hogwarts Quidditch Cup two years earlier. He felt triumphant as not only had he beaten Viktor Krum, but he also felt like he had won the girl. Ginny's kiss was however too short as the rest of the players wanted to get his attention and congratulate him.

"Very nice move," said Krum, shaking his hand. "You had me convinced that you were only going across the field for another look."

"Thanks!" said Harry, shaking his hand genially.

"Mate, you're good!" Gordon Green, Beater for the England World team, told him. "Have you ever thought about joining a team and play professionally?"

"No, I've got to admit that I haven't. It's not my calling," answered Harry with a shrug.

"Not your calling? But it's a waste of talent!" exclaimed Gregory Spivey, Beater for the Tutshill Tornadoes.

"Greg, Harry wants to become an Auror," said Ginny, who was standing very close to Harry. "It's a lot more _noble_ than Quidditch Seeker, if you ask me!" she added with a proud smile on her beautiful face.

"Children!" called Mrs Weasley from the stands. "Shower, quickly now! Dinner's ready!"

Harry felt his stomach growl. He hadn't realised how late it was and how the sun was slowing sinking to the west. To his surprise and delight, he was hungry for the first time in quite a while.

Harry was the last one to take a shower. Everybody had wanted to speak with him which had considerably delayed him. He had just walked out of the boys' locker room, his shirt in his hand when he heard a gasp. He looked up to see Ginny, staring at his still naked chest.

"You've... You've got it?" she asked fascinated.

Like Ginny had told Romilda Vane a few years ago, he had got a tattoo of a Hungarian Horntail a few months earlier to cover the scar left by Slytherin's locket.

"Yes," he replied shortly, rapidly putting his shirt on to hide his tattooed chest. "I figured I had enough scars as it was... Hungry?" he asked, pointedly changing the subject but not daring to look at her.

He was afraid that if he looked at her, Ginny would understand he hadn't got the tattoo only to hide the scar, but also as a reminder of the happiest time of his life, the time he had dated her in his sixth year.

"Yeah," she answered with a smile.

Glancing up, he saw that she was offering him her hand. He took it and with a smile, let her guide him towards the exit of the empty pitch.

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It was late evening, or early morning, Harry couldn't tell. He had been sleeping upstairs in the twins' bedroom when he had woken up from another one of his horrible nightmares. In this one, he had seen Fred die over and over again. He still felt sleepy but he didn't want to wake the entire household with his cries, so he had gone downstairs to the kitchen.

He was sitting at the Weasley's dining table and was thinking of the previous day. In the aftermath of the game, Mrs Weasley had served a dinner as plentiful and good as a Hogwarts feast. Harry had looked at Ginny, sitting at the other end of the table, more than once. She had animatedly spoken with two other players and he had frequently seen them laugh heartily. It had been so good to see her enjoying herself. She had looked his way more than once and, in those rare moments, they had shared a smile.

Ginny had gone to bed earlier than him, after she had escorted some of the players back to the kitchen heath. It had taken Harry a few minutes to realise she wasn't coming back, and he hadn't dared seek her out. Consequently, Harry hadn't had a chance to talk to her, but it may not have been a bad thing as he didn't really know what to say to her.

"Harry, dear! What are you doing down here at this time?" asked Mrs Weasley, walking into the kitchen.

"Mrs Weasley!" he exclaimed startled. "I was just thinking!"

"At five o'clock in the morning?" she asked with a frown.

Harry didn't answer, not knowing what to tell her. Mrs Weasley always treated him as her son and he didn't want her to worry about him. She had been through hell during the war and she deserved some peace and tranquillity.

She put a kettle on the fire, pulled herself a chair and sat down next to him.

"Harry, dear, you know I love you like a son. You may not have red hair or the last name 'Weasley', but you _are_ my son as much as if I'd given birth to you. And I think I also know you as if I had raised you," she said gently. "I can see something's wrong with you. You look more underfed than when you lived at the Dursleys, and more tired than when you were fighting the war and were on the run. What's wrong, dear?"

Harry debated whether to tell her or not. He wondered if he could reach out to her and add a new burden to her recently acquired peace of mind.

"Harry, I know you fear you will be creating new worries for me, but don't," she said as if she had read his mind. "I'm always worried about you. I've been worried since Christmas when you didn't visit with us. I think they're working you too hard and don't really care about your well being."

"But somebody needs to do the work. Somebody needs to sacrifice their Christmas so other people can live happy and without worries," said Harry, feeling sadness wash over him.

He knew she was right however. He had given so much already. He had been giving since he had arrived at Hogwarts over 8 years ago. However, he knew he could not give up chasing those whose sole purpose was to hurt other people. It was part of him, this inner desire to save the world.

Mrs Weasley stood up and quietly poured them some tea. She set a cup in front of him and sat down again. Taking a few sips of tea, she looked at him.

"Harry, dear, what's wrong?" she finally asked.

"I have nightmares," he answered quietly.

"Nightmares?" probed Mrs Weasley gently.

"Yeah... I see the ones who died in the war, and the ones who survived. I see them all die, over and over again. It's as if I have a boggart in my dreams but instead of showing me what I fear the most, it shows me what hurts the most."

"Poor dear! No wonder you look like you haven't slept in a month!"

"Mrs Weasley, is there a potion or a spell that could get rid of those nightmares?" he asked hopeful that Mrs Weasley would have a solution.

"Oh, there probably is, but I'm afraid, in your case, it would not be the solution," she answered sadly. "I think the best way for you to get rid of them is to surround yourself with happy people and create happy memories… Talking of which," she began, changing from an attitude of concern to one of amusement, "when will you ask our Ginny out on a date?"

"I – I don't know," he answered completely taken aback.

Of all the questions in the world, that was the last one he expected from Mrs Weasley who had always been so protective of Ginny.

"She… she deserves better than me," he added after a few seconds of silence.

"Rubbish!" said Mrs Weasley, slapping him gently on the hand. "She has been so happy since she saw you at the Quidditch game the other day."

"Mrs Weasley, why would she want anything to do with me? She's beautiful, brilliant, funny, and I'm only haunted and gloomy Harry!"

"Harry, dear, do you like her?" asked Mrs Weasley seriously.

"Yes! A lot!" he answered with no hesitation or second thoughts.

"That's all she needs," said Mrs Weasley gently. "That's all she wants, and that, my dear boy, _is_ what she deserves."


	5. Chapter 4 The Surprise Visit

CHAPTER 4 – The Surprise Visit

It was a little after ten when Harry woke up the next day, in his bedroom on the third floor of 12 Grimmauld Place which he now called home. He was still lying in bed, looking at the ceiling and wondering what he would do to occupy his time when he heard a loud bang and the crash of breaking glass coming from the kitchen downstairs. Startled, he sat up. The house-elves had never broken anything before and he wondered what was going on. He grabbed his glasses and put them on, hearing very rapid and light footsteps on the stairs. A few moments later, a big fluffy ginger cat walked into his bedroom through the open door.

"Crookshanks!" he asked, puzzled. "What are you doing here?"

"Harry Potter! Master! Sir!" exclaimed his house-elf Malda, Apparating with a loud crack into his bedroom. "You are awake, Master!"

During their last year at Hogwarts, Hermione and Ginny had observed, while visiting the house-elves, that Kreacher was spending a lot of time with Malda. He had also seemed happy around her. While inquiring about the connection between the two, the duo had found that Malda was actually Kreacher's grand-daughter. Hermione and Ginny had not found the circumstances of their separation, and how Malda had ended up at Hogwarts, however Ginny, who by then had somewhat espoused the SPEW views, promised them she would do everything in her power to permanently reunite them. Since neither of them wanted to be set free, and both liked to work for Harry and Hogwarts, Ginny spoke with Professor McGonagall who agreed to give Malda to Harry. This was the best arrangement since Harry's house-elves worked at Hogwarts most of the time, and Hogwarts, having plenty of house-elves, did not really need more of them.

The transfer of ownership, which happened just before Halloween, had also come with a surprise. Malda had become pregnant shortly before the ownership transfer, and Ginny had reassured her that Harry would never consider separating her from her child. Over the Christmas holidays, Ginny, with the help of Hermione, had also improved the elves' living quarters at Grimmauld Place, extending their cupboard with an Undetectable Extension Charm. She had also provided the elves with furniture to suit their size and fabrics for them to make their own clothes. These little kindnesses had earned Ginny their eternal gratitude, and Harry suspected Malda was fervently hoping Ginny would eventually become her mistress, too.

"Malda, why is Crookshanks here?" asked Harry, surprised to see her Apparate into his bedroom as this was something the house-elves never did when he was at home.

"Miss Granger is here, Master!" she answered, opening the curtains from the windows. "She said she wanted to go shopping in the Muggle town."

Malda had opened the wardrobe and was choosing clothes for Harry to wear. Harry looked at her completely baffled by her actions as not only did she never show up in his bedroom in the morning, she had never chosen his clothes before. Malda was a lot more excited by Hermione's visit than usual.

"Malda, why are you so agitated?" he finally asked.

"Because Miss Granger is not alone, Master! She is with Miss Weasley! Miss Weasley has always been so nice to Malda," she added, putting on one of her most radiant smiles and bringing her little hands to her chest.

That definitely explained it all.

Harry got out of bed and put on the jeans Malda had selected for him. Looking at the orange shirt and the two unmatching socks laid out for him by Malda, he went to the chest of drawers and retrieved a light grey shirt with matching socks.

"Malda, would you please go to the kitchen and tell Hermione and Ginny I will be there in a minute? Would you also make sure they have everything they need?"

"Yes, Master!" she answered and Disapparated from the room.

Harry went to the bathroom, brushed his teeth, and made his way downstairs to the kitchen.

"Hello, Harry!" said Hermione when she saw him.

Hermione and Ginny were sitting face to face near the end of the table, having breakfast. A place was set for him on the end, between the two of them. Ginny, who was facing away from the door, turned around and smiled at him.

"Hey, Harry!" she said.

Harry felt butterflies in his stomach and wondered for a moment how he was supposed to behave with her. They had kissed twice but were they or were they not dating? he wondered. Things were so complicated now and he realized how much they really needed to take the time to talk, which they had yet to do.

"Hey!" said Harry and settled on kissing the top of her head. "When did you get here?" he asked, sitting at the place they had set for him.

Hermione took her wand and flicked it a few times. Eggs, bacon, and toast flew to Harry's plate. He could not help but be impressed at Hermione's non-verbal skills.

"About an hour ago," answered Hermione, flicking her wand some more to make her dirty dishes fly into the kitchen sink. "Didn't Ron tell you I would be here at nine?"

"No," answered Harry.

"Didn't he tell you I was coming at all?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I don't think he mentioned it," answered Harry more shortly then he intended.

"He was supposed to tell you on Sunday to be expecting me today. He was also supposed to tell you I would be spending the night… Since Ginny was free, I invited her to come, too. You don't mind, do you? It's not like you don't have room for us, really."

"No, no!" answered Harry, pouring himself a cup of tea.

Harry doubted Hermione was here solely to go shopping. While she lived outside of London, she could have easily returned home after her shopping. He suspected she was here, in fact, to keep an eye on him. He looked up at Ginny and smiled, just happy she had come along.

"Well, anyway, we're going to shop in Muggle London today," explained Hermione, "and I was thinking about taking Ginny to the cinema. Since your house is so close, we figured we could just walk from here."

"Yeah, sure!" said Harry, hoping Hermione would invite him to go with them.

"Oh, by the way! Ron would like you to drop by the Wheezes today. He and George have something to show you."

Harry looked at Ginny with longing and wondered again if he could have done anything to prevent their relationship from falling by the way side this past year. Auror training had been so much more intensive than he had expected. He had been sent directly into an accelerated Concealment and Disguising training during which he could rarely send or receive any messages. Once he was done with his first course, it was late September and Ginny had been back at Hogwarts with Hermione for their seventh year. He could only reach her by owl.

He had been working on a way to see Ginny and had just obtained permission from Headmistress McGonagall to visit Hogwarts when he was called in for training again, but for Stealth and Tracking this time. This was immediately followed by Investigation and Undercover techniques training.

The training continued over Christmas and he had had no time off to speak of. During the holidays, he had been with his Investigation and Undercover instructor on the trail of a Death Eater, and had not been allowed to visit the Burrow. He had sent a letter and a gift to Ginny, telling her he was thinking of her often but hadn't received any response. He hadn't expected one since he was undercover and therefore untraceable, even for owls.

Harry, completely overworked, overstressed and depressed by his lack of a holiday, had began to seriously doubt Ginny was still waiting for him, despite what she had said before he left. He had been away for over a year and a half and he was convinced she had become very tired of waiting for him. She was so brilliant, intelligent, funny and beautiful; it was hard to imagine nobody would sweep her off her feet. His thoughts were only adding to his mounting depression, but he figured he had to move on: he was needed to remove evil from the face of the earth, to allow people like Ginny to have a happy and safe life. He had sent her a few more messages, and received a few in return when he was allowed, but his messages had been less and less frequent, and more and more mundane, as he knew he had to let her go, even if his heart screamed no.

Harry had been back from training for a month when the Hogwarts school year ended. Instead of trying to contact Ginny, he had buried himself in his work until he was put on mandatory holiday leave. Numerous times he had thought about sending her an owl, but since he hadn't heard from her he figured she really had moved on.

And here he was now, beating himself up because he hadn't sent her an owl the minute he was done with training for the year. Looking at her sitting right next to him, he thought he was even more stupid and slow on the uptake because he hadn't even sent her an owl after he had seen her at the Harpies Quidditch game. If it hadn't been for Ron and Hermione, his two best friends, he realized he may not have seen her again. He could not imagine what he would do without his friends.

Too quickly for Harry's liking, they were done with breakfast and after a quick kiss on his cheek, Ginny followed Hermione upstairs and out of the door.

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An hour later, Harry was walking down Diagon Alley towards the Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. The Alley was not very busy which Harry preferred as it made it harder for would-be attackers to hide without a crowd.

All the shops had now re-opened, even Ollivanders Wand Shop which had closed following the kidnapping of its owner by Voldemort. Harry remembered when he had visited Ollivander at his shop during his September holiday. Ollivander had been released from St. Mungo's Hospital only a few weeks before and had re-opened his shop just in time for the school year.

"Harry Potter!" he had exclaimed, looking up from the floor which he was slowly sweeping.

Harry had read all the gratitude reflected in the old man's eyes. He had saved him from Voldemort by helping him escape Malfoy Manor where he had been held captive.

"How can I ever repay you for all you've done for me?" he had asked.

"You don't have to, sir," Harry had said, embarrassed. "You helped me too, remember?"

"You're as gracious as your mother was... and as everybody tells me you are, too," said Ollivander with a warm smile. "Mr Potter, do you remember what I told you when you bought your wand from me?" he had asked, pointing at Harry's back pocket which his wand was poking out of.

"That you would see great things from me," answered Harry.

"Yes, Mr Potter, yes!" said Ollivander. "And we did, didn't we? Little did I know those great things would include saving my life," he chuckled.

As Harry walked past Ollivanders, he looked in the window. Ollivander was helping a very young girl pick what seemed to be her first wand. Harry smiled and continued further down the street towards the Wheezes.

As expected, the place was packed. Harry had only taken a few steps into the shop when a few teenage girls next to the love potions recognized him. They pointed at him and said excitedly "Harry Potter! Harry Potter!"

Even if the war had ended over a year ago, Harry's popularity in the wizarding world hadn't ceased to grow. The _Daily Prophet_, he had discovered when he had come back from training for the summer, had published stories about him weekly, which had considerably increased the newspaper's revenues and Harry's popularity. Most of the stories had been accurate for a change, and Harry wondered when people would tire of reading about him. However, he felt it may not happen any time soon.

Shoppers were beginning to look up and stare at him. Ron appeared at his side before anybody built up the courage to come and ask him for his autograph, or worse, ask questions about the war.

"Hey, mate!" said Ron. "Come this way!"

Grateful for the rescue, Harry followed Ron behind the counter and through the door which gave access to the back workshop. Stepping over piles of boxes, the pair crossed the room and climbed the stairs.

Harry was intrigued. He had never been to the shop's upper floors before, and thought George lived there with Angelina. As they got to the top of the stairs, Ron took out his wand and said "Wheezes wheeze Weasley Wand Won Won". The door opened and Ron ushered Harry inside, closing the door behind them.

The upstairs, Harry discovered, was no longer living quarters. It looked as if it had been transformed into another workshop however the material on the shelves and the work table was pretty mundane - nothing like what could be found in the shop below.

Then, all of a sudden, George appeared in front of him.

"It works?" asked Ron excited.

"Yeah!" answered George with a grin.

"What is all this?" asked Harry, looking around.

The shelves were full of rings, pocket watches, watches, and other small personal jewellery.

"This, my friend, is the secret Weasley's Wizard Wheezes venture," answered George proudly.

"Angelina bought us this book about a Muggle game with dragons and wizards, mate. This game has all kinds of ideas for magical objects and we've been trying to recreate some, you know... We told ourselves why not? We are wizards after all!" explained Ron.

"And when the Ministry got wind of it, they became very interested in our little project," added George.

"What type of magical objects?" asked Harry. "Ron told me about some shielding rings but what else have you got?"

"Well, for instance, this ring," began George, showing Harry a simple metal ring. "It's an invisibility ring," he added and slipped it on his finger.

George disappeared.

"Whoa!" exclaimed Harry.

The Weasleys had always been good at creating magical objects, as could be attested by Mr Weasley's numerous modifications of his Muggle car, but Harry had to admit these rings were pretty advanced stuff.

"Of course," said George, removing the ring and reappearing, "this is definitely _not_ for kids. And we still need to work out quite a few kinks."

"It's a wonder, really, that Muggles came up with the ideas in that book, them not having magic and all," said Ron.

"Maybe they're not limited by what they think is possible," suggested Harry.

"Maybe," said Ron, shrugging.

"What else have you got?" asked Harry intrigued.

For the next half an hour, George and Ron showed him what they were working on, excited by their new venture, which included not only shielding and invisibility rings, but also bracelets which grew cold when detecting evil intent, watches which could block spells casted against the wearer, and other jewellery which could increase the wizard's power or allow them to perform minor spells without a wand.

"Of course, all of this is not yet ready for distribution," said George. "We still have to figure out how to make the spells permanent..."

"... and resistant to counter-spells," added Ron, like Fred would have had. "But it's a good start."

"Brilliant!" exclaimed Harry.

"Can you imagine how old Voldy would have fared if we'd had half of these?" asked George with a grin.

Harry agreed. This magical jewellery had the potential to do a lot of good. But it could also do a lot of damages in the wrong hands.

"Of course, all this is not for everybody," added Ron, as if he was reading his mind.

"It really wouldn't do to have Death Eaters with spell blocking watches," agreed Harry.

"No, but it could really help Aurors, couldn't it?" said Ron.

"Yes," agreed Harry. "It definitely would."


	6. Chapter 5 The Request

A/N – Okay, it took me quite a long time to post this chapter. Between this chapter and the last, I found a new job and moved from the US to Canada. I am still not quite settled yet so please, bear with me for a while longer.

For those of you who read Bleeding Heart and wondered where it fits in this story. It fits right before the last section of this chapter.

On another note, this story is rated M for a reason. According to the guidelines, M is for readers who are mature and over 16 years of age. I have noticed that some of the readers who have added the story to their favourites are younger than the rating would allow. Now, if you are younger, please be sensitive to the fact that this story may not be for you. I had thought about changing the story to address this issue but after reflections, I have decided not to. I have put this story in the M rating for a reason. Hopefully, if you read it, you can handle it.

Finally, again I want to thank ZephyrDragon for her beta services. If you are interested in betaing in the future, please drop me a line. I have another story which is completely written (and completely OC) and another one I am currently working on (another OC).

Enjoy!

CHAPTER 5 – The Request

Harry was standing in a graveyard. Everything was quiet; not a sound could be heard. It was as if a spell had been casted over the area, a spell which eliminated all noise. He was walking towards a gravestone which strangely resembled Tom Riddle Senior's, the one that had held him captive when Voldemort's servant, Wormtail, had took his blood to regenerate his master's body.

Suddenly, the silence was broken by a laugh, a mirthless and demented kind of laugh, a laugh which rejoiced in other people's misery, a laugh he knew only too well from hearing it over and over again in his dreams. He looked around to find where it came from and then he saw them: Remus, Tonks, Colin, Sirius, Fred, and countless others who had died during the war. They were approaching him, visibly angry.

Sirius walked up to him and looked at him in disgust. "You are no godson of mine!" he said. "My godson would never have let me die!"

"Sirius, no!" shouted Harry in distress. "Sirius, I didn't want you to die."

Sirius turned his back on him and walked away.

"Sirius!" called Harry, devastated.

And Harry heard the laugh again, the laugh which took pleasure in his suffering.

"Why did you let me die?" cried Colin, approaching Harry. "I was young and had my entire life to look forward to."

"Why did you let me die?" echoed Remus. "I had a son who will never get to know his father."

"I – I didn't want any of you to die," said Harry, overwhelmed by grief and guilt. "I never meant…"

"Harry! Harry! Wake up!"

Harry opened his eyes startled. He sat up and, in his eagerness to get as far away as possible from the person in front of him, banged his head on the headboard.

"What are you doing here?" he asked not too gently at the fuzzy figure in front of him, wondering who it was.

He was soaked with sweat, and shaking from the cold and the aftermath of his dream.

"Harry, you were having a bad dream," said a soft voice he now recognized only too well.

Ginny.

The last person in the world he wanted to show weakness to.

With shaking hands, Harry reached for his glasses on the bedside table but knocked them to the floor. Ginny retrieved them and gave them to him. Harry quickly put them on.

"Harry, what's wrong?" she asked gently, a look of concern on her face.

"Nothing!" he answered quickly.

"Harry! Don't lie to me!" she said forcefully.

Harry looked away. He was shivering even more now that he had left the warmth of his blankets and the back of his head was beginning to throb painfully.

"Tell me your dream, Harry," she said gently after a few seconds of silence.

Before he could stop himself, he told her everything. He told her of the dead he had seen in his dreams, of the guilt he felt at knowing so many people had died. He also told her of the living he sometimes saw too, and how he kept seeing them die at the hand of Voldemort, even if the later was dead.

"How long have you had these dreams?" she asked quietly.

"Since – since the end of the war," he answered, staring at his hands. "It all began after the funerals, when some people blamed me for their losses."

"But that's rubbish, Harry! We all know you did everything you could to save everyone!"

"Well, try saying that to the grieving families, to the ones who saw their loved ones die," he said shortly, suddenly meeting her eyes.

"I did, remember? I'm one of those families," she said gently.

Harry looked away, embarrassed. Of course she was. She had lost Fred, her own brother.

"Harry, have you… have you also had dreams... dreams that turned out to be true?" asked Ginny hesitantly.

The link he had shared with Voldemort, which had allowed him to see what the Dark Lord was doing, had been upsetting enough that he understood Ginny's reluctance in asking him if he had any other similar dreams or sightings. He also knew if Mrs Weasley had asked him he would not have told her the truth. But he could not lie to Ginny, nor did he want to hide anything from her now that he had told her everything about his nightmares.

"Yes," he answered quietly. "On Christmas morning," he added after a moment of silence. "I saw you all at the Burrow... It was as if I was seeing you through somebody else's eyes. I think it was your dad's... I saw Ron get a jumper from your mum but it was blue this time, not maroon. He was ecstatic. And I saw Hermione receive a multicolour scarf, with matching mittens and hat, also from your mum. George asked Angelina to marry him and she said yes, to the delight of everyone. And I saw an owl arrive, with the present I had sent you. You – you looked so surprised," said Harry, looking up at her.

Harry knew all he had seen had really happened; Ron had confirmed it.

"Before I could see you open your present, the dream changed," continued Harry with a harder tone and haunted eyes.

Harry hesitated, looking down at his hands, not sure if he should continue, nor if he could. He had never told anyone the entire truth about this dream, he never told anyone he had witnessed it all through the eyes of the killer. He just found it too horrible to contemplate.

"What happened?" prompted Ginny gently, putting her hand over his.

"I saw... I saw through the eyes of the Death Eater we were pursuing. I recognised a house I had seen a couple of days earlier in the village next to the one we were staying in. I went through the house, which was in shambles, and to a bedroom towards the back. I saw… I saw an old muggle woman tied with Spellotape to a bedpost. She was gagged and filthy. She was having a hard time breathing. She was terrified and I knew she couldn't survive much longer in these conditions. We had to try to save her... I – I told my instructor what I dreamed but he didn't believe it was real. He just told me every Auror had nightmares about the people they were pursuing. I was so angry!" said Harry, barely controlling the anger he still felt towards the person who had ignored his warning. "After a day of trying to convince him, I just packed my things and told him I was leaving. I knew what I had seen was true and I told him I was quitting. I just wanted to get there and save her. He finally _condescended_ to come with me," spitted out Harry with a humourless chuckle. "When – when we got there, the muggle police was already on the scene. The old lady had been found dead an hour earlier by her niece who was worried because she hadn't shown up for church that morning."

"Harry, I'm so sorry," said Ginny, squeezing his hand gently.

"I looked at my instructor... he was horrified. I don't know what the old guy was more shocked by: the old lady's death or my having dreamt about it. I looked at him in disgust and I Disapparated back to the Ministry. If he had listened to me, we may have been able to save her, you know.

"I wasn't supposed to leave my instructor for any reason but I couldn't stand being around him anymore. I just couldn't believe he wouldn't trust me enough to know what I was doing. I don't know what happened to him, but the next thing I knew, I was back on the trail of the same Death Eater with another instructor," finished Harry.

"Have you had any other dreams like that?"

"No," answered Harry. "I barely sleep anymore. Every time I close my eyes, there are only horrors."

"Go back to sleep now," Ginny said, soothingly. "I'll watch over you."

Tired and exhausted, Harry laid down, doubting he could sleep, doubting Ginny watching over him would change his dreams, but hoping against hope it would, nevertheless.

She removed his glasses and whispered: "Close your eyes."

Harry obeyed her and felt her hand on the side of his face. The last thing he remembered was Ginny leaning towards him and whispering to his ear: "_Pacis somnium_, Harry Potter."

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Harry woke up slowly to a room flooded with daylight. His dreams had been wonderful. He had dreamt of being at the Burrow with the Weasleys and Hermione. They were having dinner and were laughing. He remembered gazing into Ginny's joyful eyes, and of having fallen asleep with her in his arms.

At the thought, he came fully awake.

He could feel a weight pressed against his left side, and could smell a flowery scent. He wondered for a moment if he was still dreaming since Ginny was there, snuggled against him, her head on his arm. As memories of the previous night came back to him, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, enjoying the smell of her hair and the warmth of her body against his. How he had craved this contact in the last few months, to feel her next to him, to smell her, to touch her...

But his enjoyment was short lived as Ginny began to stir.

He didn't want to move, didn't want to say anything. He willed this moment to last forever. He wanted it to last forever. He wanted Ginny back in his life. He wanted to wake up next to her every morning until there were no more. But things were so complicated now. He just didn't know how to tell her, or how she would react to...

"Morning," she whispered, looking up at him.

She was so beautiful, with her unkempt hair and her sleepy eyes.

"Morning," he said.

"Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah!" he answered with a dreamy smile.

"No more nightmares?"

"No."

Ginny's stomach growled loudly and they both laughed.

"I think I'm hungry," she said, smiling at him. "Want to get breakfast?"

"Yes!" he answered more hungry than usual.

"I'll go get dressed and meet you downstairs."

Ginny kissed him on the cheek and left, leaving Harry craving for her presence again.

A few minutes later, Harry was making his way down the stairs when he saw Ginny stormed up from the kitchen followed by a very angry Ron.

"What do you mean, where did I spend the night?" whispered Ginny as angry as her brother.

"You weren't in your bedroom when I came down this morning!" answered Ron, also whispering.

"What is it to you? It's none of your business," she retorted.

"It _is_ my business! I'm your brother!" exclaimed Ron loudly, setting off Walburga Black's portrait.

"SCUM! FILTH! MUGBLOOD! BLOOD TRAITORS!" shrieked the portrait.

"LAST TIME I'VE CHECKED," yelled Ginny over Walburga's insults. "I WAS OF AGE AND OLD ENOUGH TO MAKE MY OWN DECISIONS!"

"BLOOD TRAITORS! FILTH!"

"BUT YOU _ARE_ STILL MY LITTLE SISTER AND IT'S MY DUTY TO LOOK AFTER YOU!" said Ron, also screaming over the portrait's rant.

"AARRGH!" bellowed Ginny, storming down into the kitchen, now completely annoyed.

A few seconds later, she came back with a chair which she banged on the floor immediately beneath the painting. Climbing on it, she took out her wand from the back pocket of her jeans and magically cut open the tip of her finger.

"Take this! You filthy mouthed witch!" she yelled at Walburga, putting an X in her blood across the portrait's mouth, her wand still emitting some pinkish sparks at its tip. "I have as much Black blood in me as the next one! And next time you open your mouth, it better be to speak intelligently and not shriek insults at everybody."

In the sudden quietness, Ginny got off the chair, grabbed it and returned to the kitchen.

Ron looked up at the portrait in wonder, and Harry, as surprised, joined him at the bottom of the stairs.

"Ginny!" said Ron in amazement. "You've done it!"

"I've done what?" she asked shortly, from the kitchen.

"You made Walburga Black shut up!" answered Harry, also looking at the painting.

On the portrait, Walburga was visibly annoyed to be bound and no longer able to scream insults at them, but she had lost most of her crazy and deranged looks.

"That's mental!" said Ron with a grin.

Hermione and Ginny joined them from the kitchen.

"Brilliant! I may actually get to keep her after all," said Harry lightly.

Among laughers, they went to the kitchen for breakfast.

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Harry did not sleep well that night. Again, his sleep was plagued by nightmares of the dead. The next morning, he was still tired when he got dressed, and went downstairs where he found Hermione and Ginny in the lobby, getting ready to leave.

"Oh! Harry! We left you some porridge on the stove," said Hermione, grabbing her rucksack.

"You – you're leaving?" he asked, feeling a bit panicked.

He did not want to see them go. He did not want to see Ginny go! The last two days had been the best ones he had had since the end of the war just because she had been there with him.

"Yes," answered Hermione, grabbing the rest of her shopping bags. "It's time for us to leave."

She walked to Harry and hugged him with one arm.

"Thank you, Harry," she said and let go of him.

Without adding a word, she walked out of the door.

"Thank you, Harry," said Ginny, kissing him on the cheek and following Hermione outside.

When he heard the Knight Bus honk, Harry realised Ginny was really about to leave. He had to do something, and he had to do it now otherwise it would be too late: she would be gone.

He ran to the door and stopped on the top step.

"Ginny!" he called, desperation in his voice.

She was just about to get on the bus. With a foot on the first step and her hand on the handle, she turned around and looked at him.

"Please, stay!" he said, looking at her lovely face, panic showing all over his own.

She froze and continued staring at him, her face unreadable. Hermione and the conductor poked their head out of the Bus and also looked at Harry.

"Come on, woman! We don't have all day!" finally said the conductor.

Ginny removed her foot from the step and her hand from the railing, her eyes never leaving Harry's.

"Good for you!" said Hermione with a big smile on her face, giving her back her shopping bags. "I'll let your mum know."

"Okay," said Ginny quietly.

In the next moment, the Bus was gone.

Ginny was still standing in the middle of the footpath, looking at Harry as he walked towards her. He took her bags, putting them on the ground beside them, and looked into her eyes. Gently grabbing her face in his hands, he leaned forward and his lips met hers in a tender kiss.

"I'm glad you stayed," he told her gently as they parted.

"I'm glad you asked," she said. "I thought you never would."

Harry grinned at her.

"For a moment there, I thought you would be gone before I could work up the nerve."

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Harry had just showered and was sitting in the Drawing Room, an opened Defence Against the Dark Arts book on his lap. He had tried to read but had given up, thinking instead of Ginny.

Ginny had stayed that morning after he had asked her to, and now she was in the shower a few feet away, also getting ready for bed. He hoped she had stayed because she loved him as much as he so desperately loved her, and because she wanted him in her life as much as he wanted her.

He was still thinking of her, staring at nothing, when he felt her eyes on him. He turned around and saw her standing in the darkened corridor, looking at him. With a smile on his face, he put his book down on the coffee table, stood up and went to her.

Harry's heart constricted in panic when he saw she was crying, tears falling from her brown eyes, down her beautiful face.

"Ginny," he said, taking her in his arms, and holding her tightly against his chest, not wanting to let go, worried to see this strong girl... now a woman, in such distress.

She cried like he had never seen her cry before, like her heart was broken and shattered in a thousand pieces. He had never known she could cry like this and his worry grew. He held on to her, keeping her upright, as her legs could barely support her anymore.

"Ginny, what's wrong?" he asked gently, his cheek against her hair.

"Harry, why? Why did you not come back to me?" she asked, hitting him hard in the ribs with her fists, once, twice, three times.

Harry didn't even try to stop her. He deserved the punishment for what he had put her through.

"Because I'm an idiot, Ginny," he answered, fighting back his own tears.

Her distress was so profound, her sobs so heartfelt, Harry just wanted to hex himself in guilt.

"Before this morning, when you said you'd stay, I never thought you still wanted anything to do with me. I never thought you were still waiting for me. I never – I never thought you could still..."

But he couldn't finish his sentence.

He was so afraid she would leave, he couldn't bring himself to tell her how much he really loved her.


	7. Chapter 6 The First Time

A/N – First and foremost, thank you to xxBabyT-ranxx, Stiehl, Charles cdv, Alicecullencutie651, Love_From_A_Muggle, David Fishwick and JacquiT for your comments. They are really appreciated.

Second, let me remind you that this story is rated M for a reason and you will find the reason in this chapter.

Finally, again I want to thank ZephyrDragon for her beta services. If you are interested in betaing in the future, please drop me a line. I have another story in the Potterverse which is completely written (and completely OC) and another one I am currently working on (another OC).

CHAPTER 6 – The first time

The next week had been by far one of the best weeks Harry had had since his sixth year at Hogwarts. The Thursday, he had taken Ginny around London on the Underground, which she had never seen before. She had been as intrigued by the system as her father had been a few years earlier.

"This is how Muggles travel?" she had asked excited. "It's noisy!"

Harry had laughed, happy to see her so excited.

When they had arrived home that night, Malda had opened the door for them excitedly.

"Master Potter! Master Potter! Mrs Weasley came today!"

Harry and Ginny had looked at one another, worried.

"Mrs Weasley brought some food! And she had some for Malda and Kreacher, too!" Malda had continued happily. "And Mrs Weasley gave Malda a new ball of wool to make a shirt!"

Malda had showed them a maroon-coloured ball of wool which strangely reminded Harry of Ron's old jumpers.

"Did she say anything else? Did she leave a message?" Harry had asked.

"Oh yes, Master! Mrs Weasley said to tell Master and Miss Weasley to have a good time and enjoy yourselves. Mrs Weasley said to tell Master and Miss Weasley that you deserve it," she had added with a serious nod.

Harry and Ginny had looked at each other, grinning.

"Mrs Weasley also brought Miss Weasley clothes!" had added Malda. "Malda put Miss Weasley's trunk in her bedroom."

The second day, Harry had taken Ginny to visit Buckingham Palace and the Houses of Parliament, Apparating into the St. Stephen's Tower which had been deserted. With a view of London and the Thames in the background, he had kissed her with a hunger that even surprised him.

"I'm glad you're here," he had told her.

"I'm glad to be here," she had said, smiling.

Ginny had been interested to learn about the Muggle government. She had also been surprised to learn not all Muggle countries governed themselves the same way.

"How do they remember all these different systems?" she had asked, intrigued.

"Most people don't," Harry had answered. "I don't! But somebody like Hermione, on the other hand..."

It was now the third day and Ginny had left early for Quidditch practice. He was in the study reading a 'Stealth and Tracking book when she arrived.

"You're limping!" Harry exclaimed when he saw her. "And you've got a black eye!"

"It's nothing," she said, walking to a chair and sitting with a wince.

Her uniform was as dusty and dirty as if she had been rolling in the grass.

"Don't lie to me!" said Harry with the same tone she had used with him when he had told her his nightmares were nothing. One look at her told him it was not 'nothing'. "Your face very much says otherwise," he added concerned. "Go remove these dirty clothes and I'll run you a warm bath."

"Okay," said Ginny, standing up and leaving the study.

As soon as she was out the door, Harry picked up the Muggle telephone he kept in his desk drawer for emergencies, and called Hermione.

"HELLO!" yelled Ron who still hadn't figured out you didn't need to yell into a telephone.

"Ron! Ron! It's Harry! Let me talk to Hermione."

"OKAY!"

"Harry, what's wrong? Why are you calling so late?" said Hermione worriedly.

"Hermione, Ginny is all black and blue from Quidditch practice and I wanted to know what to put in her bath water to make her feel better."

With a laugh, Hermione told him what to do and what to put on Ginny's bruises after her bath.

"Thanks, Hermione! You're the best!"

"Any time."

Harry hung up and went to the kitchen to get what he needed. He then went to the first floor and ran the hot water, adding what Hermione had indicated. Ginny joined him, wrapped in her dressing gown, when the bathtub was almost full with water and bubbles. Under the brighter lights of the bathroom, Harry noticed how pale she really was. He took his wand and lowered the lights. He then stirred the bath water, whispering the spell Hermione had told him. Once he was finished, he turned to Ginny.

She was slowly removing her bathrobe. Harry, surprised to find her naked before him, could not help but stare at the body of the woman he loved so much, and felt his own body respond to her. However, his response was short lived when he noticed all the bruises covering her cream coloured skin. Not only did she have a black eye, she also had a nasty bruise on her left ribs, which seemed to go all the way to her back, another bruise on her right leg, and a long straight scar from her left shoulder to her right hip. Now worried by her condition, Harry took her hand and helped her climb into the bathtub.

"Ginny, what happened?" he asked once she was submerged in the hot bubbly water.

"They made us practice with two bludgers… I was hit a couple of times," she answered with her eyes closed.

"Why didn't you go see the Healer?" he asked gently.

"Some other girls needed it more than me."

Harry helped her wash and wrapped her in her dressing gown when she was finished. At that point, she was so tired, she could barely stand. He dried her with a flick of his wand and put some of the ointment on her bruises, trying very hard to keep his mind firmly on the task at hand. He then took her to her bedroom and put her to bed after helping her into her nightdress.

"Harry, thank you," she whispered sleepily.

"Any time!" he answered lightly, ignoring the yearning of his own body.

Turning off the light, he closed the door behind him and let her sleep.

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The next day, Ginny insisted she was in good enough shape to go and play Quidditch at the Burrow, even if she was still pale, limping and wincing every time she took a deep breath.

"My family built this pitch for me!" she said. "I'll be in the hospital totally incapacitated before I miss one of our games!"

Harry, seeing there was no way of changing her mind, gave up arguing. Her eye did not really look any better, and Harry thought Mrs Weasley, being a fairly good healer, would probably be able to help her.

Mrs Weasley was in the kitchen when they arrived at the Burrow by Floo powder.

"Ginny, dear! What happened to your eye?" she asked when she saw her.

"Quidditch accident," answered Ginny.

"Come dear, I'll fix you up in no time."

"Yes, mum," answered Ginny, following her mother out of the kitchen.

"Don't forget to show her your leg and ribs!" called Harry after them.

"Harry! I thought I heard you," said Ron walking inside by the kitchen door. "Ginny's with you?"

"She's with your mum."

"Oh! Coming?"

Ginny joined them a few minutes later, changed and ready to play. Harry noticed she looked a lot better; she was no longer limping and her black eye was completely gone.

While they played, Harry could not take his eyes off of her. He could not stop imagining how her cream colour body would look without all the bruises. He was so absorbed by his day dreaming and fantasies that it took Harry two minutes to realise Krum had caught the snitch and the game was over. He seriously had the impression the game had lasted less than ten minutes, but it could not be the case as the sun was setting and his stomach growling loudly.

"You looked rather dreamy up there," whispered Ginny to his ear as they walked towards the changing rooms.

Harry blushed a deep red and looked at his shoes without answering her.

After an evening of talking with his fellow players and friends, during which he had been separated from Ginny again, and after a long and passionate kiss on the landing outside her room, he went up to Ron's attic bedroom. While Mrs Weasley was willing to accept that Ginny had been staying at the Grimmauld Place for the last week, and Ron and Hermione were officially living together, she was not yet willing to accept that her children were growing up and becoming adults.

"Bill and Fleur did not share a room under this roof until they were married!" she had said when Ron had protested about the sleeping arrangements.

Ginny and Hermione had been amused while Harry had blushed as furiously as any Weasley.

"So... my sister," said Ron once they had turned off the light.

"Your sister what?" asked Harry.

Since Ginny's body was exactly what he was thinking at that moment, he responded to Ron a little shorter than usual, as if his friend had caught him peeking where he shouldn't have.

"Well, have you and she…? You know..." asked Ron.

"No," answered Harry, knowing full well that had the lights been on, Ron would have had no problem seeing how red he was, again.

And not for the first time in his life, Harry was happy Ron had no skill at Legilimency. Harry would have been mortified to know Ron could glimpse his naked sister through his mind.

"And Hermione and you? Have you…? You know..." asked Harry, pretending this was the most natural conversation in the world.

However it was not. As far as Harry was concerned, it was probably one of the most embarrassing moments of his life.

"Oh, yeah!" answered Ron also trying to sound normal. "Loads of times!"

Harry chuckled amused and a few seconds later, Ron joined him.

"I never thought I would be first at something compared to the famous Harry Potter," said Ron.

"Yeah! Feels good not to be first at something for a change!"

They laughed again.

"Seriously, mate," said Ron suddenly becoming serious. "You may be my best mate but if you hurt her, I _am_ going to hunt you down and hurt you so bad, you'll wish you were still at the Dursleys. She went through hell these past two years because of you and I never want to see her like that again. Agreed?"

"Agreed," answered Harry without hesitation. "But I can tell you right now, I have no intention of hurting her."

Although Harry felt asleep with images of Ginny in his mind, he woke in the early morning with more nightmares. Afraid to wake up the others with his screams, he grabbed a blanket and went to sit in the back garden to look at the sun rise over the hills. Three garden gnomes came to sit at his feet, and waited for the sunrise with him.

The sky was beginning to turn pink when he heard the kitchen door opened and closed behind him, followed by the sound of somebody walking behind him.

"I thought you might want some tea," said Hermione, sitting next to him and offering him a steaming cup.

"Thanks," he answered, taking it.

"Nightmares again?" she asked, sipping her tea.

"Yeah," he answered. "Sorry I woke you up."

"You didn't," she answered. "I couldn't sleep."

"Advancing the cause of the non-humans again?" asked Harry with a small smile.

"Something like that," answered Hermione with a chuckle.

"Hermione, can I ask you something?" asked Harry after a few minutes of silence.

He didn't wait for her answer as he knew his courage might fail him before he asked.

"You know, in school, you were always good at telling us how girls felt. Can you tell me... can you tell me how you think Ginny feels about me?"

He held his breath afraid she would actually laugh at him. But she didn't.

"Well, I think she's afraid, Harry," answered Hermione in her typical scholarly tone. "She's afraid you'll disappear from her life again. That makes her afraid to let herself love you because she's afraid to get hurt if you leave. She's also afraid _not_ to let herself love you because she thinks she should grab any little piece of happiness she can get while you're together, in case you disappear again. Then she's afraid you being together doesn't mean the same for you as it means for her. But at the same time, you're all she ever wanted and she just wants to enjoy the time you have together for fear it will end."

"Compared to that, I think I do have the emotional range of a tea spoon," said Harry with a sad smile.  
"I don't think so," said Hermione. "That's more Ron," she added, chuckling. "I wouldn't be surprised if you were as confused as she is."

Harry remained silent, reflecting on what Hermione had just told him.

"Harry, do you love her?" asked Hermione.

"More than you can imagine," he answered and he knew it was the truth.

When he was at the Dursleys, Harry had never known love. Since then, he had known a warm, peaceful and comforting sort of love through his friends and Ron's family. But with Ginny, he felt a love which almost incapacitated him, an all consuming love. He felt his heart would burst, and imagining she may not be in his life just made him feel sick to his stomach. Harry had never known he could love somebody so much it actually hurt.

"Do you want to be with her?" probed Hermione.

"Yes, I do," answered Harry, thinking she was asking him if he wanted to date Ginny.

"I meant... you know..." she clarified with a shy smile.

"Oh!" he said, looking at Hermione surprised.

If Hermione was asking, it meant she probably knew they hadn't. He wondered if Ginny had talked to her, if Ginny wanted to be with him too.

"Oh!" he said again, looking at the hills. "I do, but I'm afraid she's not ready," he added quietly. "I'm afraid she'll think I'm taking advantage of her."

"Harry, if she wasn't ready, don't you think she would tell you? Besides, Ginny's not the type of person to do something she doesn't want to do. However, if you decide to take it to the next level, you better put her fears at rest. And you know they aren't groundless. You left in May last year, didn't come back for Christmas, barely sent her any messages, and didn't contact her at the end of the school year. She has every reason to fear you'll leave her again."

"I thought – I thought she had moved on," said Harry sadly. "I mean, who wouldn't want to be with a girl like Ginny; she's beautiful, intelligent, funny…"

"Well, she didn't. And now you know better," said Hermione dismissively. "But Harry, let me give you a little piece of advice," she said, becoming serious again. "Whenever you _are_ with Ginny, and whatever happens, don't pull away from her unless she tells you to. At some point, pulling away from her may be what you think is best, but believe me when I tell you it will feel like rejection to her."

Harry pondered on Hermione's advice not quite sure what it meant.

The sun was fully up when they joined the others in the kitchen for breakfast. Ginny, who had Quidditch practice that morning, left at the same time as Ron, Hermione, Angelina and George. Harry remained at the Burrow to help Mrs Weasley tidy up the house.

"While I have you to myself, dear, I need to teach you something," said Mrs Weasley when he joined her in the laundry room with a pile of dirty sheets.

"Teach me?" he asked intrigued. "Teach me what?"

"Healing, Harry dear. Otherwise you'll have to run to the Burrow every time Ginny gets in a bad way at practice, or she'll have to remain in pain. We wouldn't want that, now, would we?"

Harry knew he desperately needed to acquire some basic healing skills. He had wanted to learn some before beginning his search for Horcruxes but the circumstances had prevented him to do so.

"No, we don't want that," he answered with a smile.

"And she was in a pretty bad way this morning."

"Really?" asked Harry surprised.

"Oh yes, dear, a lot worse than she led on. She learnt to be very good at hiding how much she was hurt when she was young. You can imagine, with six brothers, she didn't want to appear weak. And of course, with what happened at Hogwarts two years ago, she must be even better at it now.

"She told me you put something in her bath water last night."

Harry told her what he had done.

"Wise girl, that Hermione," said Mrs Weasley approvingly. "Ron couldn't have done better for himself. What you did, dear, surely made a big difference. It is probably the only reason why she was able to sleep at all."

It just occurred to Harry that the reason Ginny wanted to come and play Quidditch so badly was so her mother could heal her.

"Now, dear, let me show you a few things."

For the rest of the morning and the better part of the afternoon, Mrs Weasley taught Harry how to heal all manner of small injuries such as cuts, bruises and burns. There was a lot more to it than Harry had thought, and he felt like he was back at Hogwarts again. He wondered why the school had never taught them basic healing skills such as these.

"Now, dear, I think it's time for me to let you go. Ginny will be done with practice any minute now, and I'm pretty sure she won't want to arrive to an empty house," added Mrs Weasley with a smile.

"Thank you, Mrs Weasley," said Harry, hugging her. "I don't know what I would do without you."

"Oh! It's nothing!" she said with a smile. "Here, I got some food ready for you," and she gave him a large container of food. "I gave you some for Kreacher and Malda, too. And Harry!" she called as Harry walked towards the fireplace. "Come back next time you're by yourself and I'll teach you some more."

Harry smiled and stepped into the fireplace.

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Ginny arrived as Harry finished setting up the table. She was ravenous. As she sat next to him, Harry discretely looked at her to make sure she had no signs of injuries. While eating, she told him the details of her practice session, and he enjoyed just listening to her; she had so much life and enthusiasm. He told her about spending the day at the Burrow, but didn't go into details about what Mrs Weasley had taught him. Somehow, he didn't think Ginny would appreciate her mother telling him about the extent of her injuries.

After a long and cosy dinner, they cleared the table and Ginny went to take a bath. Harry took a shower and, wearing his pyjamas, went to the drawing room to read while waiting for Ginny.

He had made a lot of changes to the drawing room since he had moved into the house. He had kept the Black family tree, but had restored the burned portraits with images Hermione had found for him. He had also added his grandfather and parents to it, in addition to as many Weasley as space would allow. He had also changed the carpet for a pale silver grey, and refurnished the room with comfortable chairs, and a stereo which played Muggle radio and CDs. As his house did not have electricity, George had modified the stereo accordingly. Ron had found it pretty amusing that Harry wanted to listen to Muggle radio but George, who still felt in Harry's debt for the Wheezes start-up money, hadn't made fun of him.

Ginny came and joined him a few minutes later. She sat on his lap, with her legs over the armrest, her head on his shoulder. Harry held her with one hand and the book with the other so they could both read at the same time. Ginny turned the pages every time Harry kissed the top of her head.

As time passed, it became increasingly harder for Harry to concentrate on reading. Kissing her head every few minutes filled him with her flowery scent, an aroma he remembered so well from having smelt it in the love potion three years earlier, before she had become his girlfriend. And she was wearing the same dressing gown which had ended up on the floor at her feet two nights earlier, when she had disrobed in the bathroom. And thinking about the bathroom made him think of her naked body and how good she must look without bruises

After a few minutes, Harry stopped any pretence at reading. He had to face it: wanting to be with Ginny was nothing new. He had wanted to be with her since his sixth year, but the time hadn't been right. Now, they were both of age, in a place where they were not likely to be interrupted, so nothing stopped them from acting on their love. And feeling her warmth against his chest reminded him how much he had fantasized, during those long and cold nights of training, about finding himself in the same bed as her, to love her and cherish her. Now, more than ever, he realized he didn't want to let her go, he didn't want to lose her. He desperately wanted her to join him in his fourth floor bedroom so he could love her like she so very much deserved.

Harry kissed Ginny's head every once in a while so she could turn the page for herself, but reading was now impossible for him. His body was now completely and painfully aware and awakened, and his senses were on fire. His mind was submerged by the feel of her.

He didn't know how long he had been pretending to read when he finally closed the book and put it on the coffee table next to him. He put his fingers under Ginny's chin and raised her face towards his. He kissed her deeply, hoping to convey how much he really loved her. She tasted like strawberries and minty toothpaste, and he just could not get enough of her. He helped her to her feet and got up himself. He took her hand and slowly pulled her towards the stairway. At the bottom of the stairs, she hesitated, and Harry, still holding her hand, turned towards her and kissed her again.

"Harry," she whispered, nervously. "I've never…"

He stopped her whispers with a kiss to her right ear, then her left one, and then her forehead.

"Neither have I," he whispered back against her neck.

After a few more passionate kisses, he started up the stairs again and Ginny followed him. Harry took his time climbing the stairs, giving Ginny plenty of time to turn around and change her mind.

But she didn't.

He opened the door of his bedroom and pulled her inside, closing it behind her. By the candlelight on his wall, he could see how nervous she was, but she was also the prettiest woman he had ever seen. Harry took her face in his hands and kissed her softly, then deeply. He just could not get enough of her and he could not think of any other way to make her feel more comfortable.

Harry gently pulled away from her and looked into her eyes. Slowly, he undid the knot that held her bathrobe closed, and opened it. He slid the bathrobe from her shoulders and it felt to the floor revealing a little sleeveless nightdress. Ginny still looked nervous but her eyes also reflected trust. He took the hem and slowly pulled her nightdress over her head.

She was as naked as she had been two days before and this time, he took a step back and dared looking at her, taking her all in. Her creamy skin was now free of bruises, but the long scar from her shoulder to her hip was still visible. As if ashamed of it, she tried to hide it with her arms but he took a step towards her and gently took her hands in his.

"Don't," he whispered. "You're so beautiful."

Ginny slightly blushed. She took his glasses off and put them on the dresser next to her. Harry could barely see anything but he didn't care. She pulled his pyjama shirt over his head and pushed down his trousers as far as her arms would take them, liberating his painful erection. She took a step back, and Harry kicked his trousers away. Hesitantly, she looked down at him and took him all in. They had been looking at one another a few moments when Harry, wanting to feel her body against his, pulled her in his arms. He took her face in his hand again and kissed her gently, caressing her long red hair. His kisses were warm but also hungry while her soft skin against his finger drove him wild.

He finally pulled away and looked into her eyes. Taking her hand, he brought her to his bed where he pulled aside the blanket. She lay down and he lay next to her, pulling the blanket over them. He looked at her again and saw as much wanting in her eyes as he felt in his body.

"Ginny," he whispered, slowly pushing her onto her back and moving over her.

He could feel the tip of his erection touching the humidity between her legs and he could barely think straight. He wanted this so much.

"You're sure, right?" he asked her although he doubted he could have stopped.

"Yes, Harry," she whispered. "I want you."

Slowly, oh so slowly, he slid into her. To his surprise, his progression was actually difficult. At first, he felt a resistance and then, she was so tight. He was barely half buried into her when she became very rigid under him, and winced in pain.

"Ginny?" he asked concerned.

He tried to pull back but she wouldn't let him. And just in time, he remembered Hermione's advice and stopped. Ginny was holding him firmly, her hands on his hips and he tried to reassure her with small kisses on her face. She pulled him towards her some more and he was completely buried when he saw tears spilled from her eyes. Her face now visibly showed the pain she was under and he wanted it badly to stop, but he didn't dare move. She was so tight. As inexperienced as he was, the feel of her, her smell, and her softness were just too much for him, and he came. Mortified and ashamed, he stayed there, without moving, hoping his release hadn't shown on his face.

Ginny was no longer holding him and slowly, he pulled out of her, afraid he would hurt her even more. He stayed over her, still badly wanting her, his sex touching hers, raining more kisses on her eyes and face. This was definitely not the way he had imagined his first time with her. He hadn't imagined it would hurt her. He only thought he would worship her and love her until she had as much pleasure as he knew he would have.

"Ginny," he whispered against her ear. "I'm so, so sorry."

"Why?" she asked gently after a few moments of silence.

"I – I never wanted to hurt you. I wanted this to be good for you."

She looked straight into his eyes.

"Harry James Potter, there is no other place I'd rather be right now," she said firmly. "Please make love to me… but be gentle."

"I – I can't," he said still worried.

"Yes, you can," she whispered, kissing his ear. "And you will."

He felt her hand slid between their bodies and touch him, timidly, lightly. He took a sharp breath but still he hesitated.

"Please, Harry, I need you to make love to me," she whispered, placing him at her entrance.

She removed her hand, and she kissed him deeply. Harry slid slowly into her again. He didn't feel any resistance but she was still very tight. At least, this time, he didn't come right away. He stayed there, in her, letting her body adjust to him, feeling, once in a while, a small spasm, as if she was probing him. He took his time, kissing her face, her eyes, her neck, her lips. Caressing her hair, he looked into her eyes.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yes," she whispered.

She grabbed his hands and their fingers intertwined. Holding her hands on each side of her face, he kissed her deeply and began to move slowly inside of her.

"Ginny?" he asked worried when he felt her shiver under him.

She opened her eyes and looked at him. Her eyes were shining even more than before.

"That felt good," she said, still holding on tightly to his fingers. "Make love to me, Harry," she asked again.

And he did, taking his time, slowly moving in and out of her. A few other times, she winced in pain but after a while, her body relaxed under him and she sighed softly. And he came again, one glorious time, completely overwhelmed by her presence and her trust.

Slowly rolling onto his back, he pulled her towards him and lay there, just enjoying this incredible moment but at the same time, fighting the mounting guilt inside of him. He knew he should sleep but he was just too happy and at the same time confused, to even think about it. He felt so guilty and worried that Ginny's first experience had been painful to her and, at best, uncomfortable. He strongly suspected she hadn't received any pleasure from their experience and the thought of it made him feel even guiltier. He felt like he had taken from her without giving her anything in return.

And he realized the extent of his ignorance when it came to be a woman. He may be 18, almost 19, but he knew next to nothing about women. It was not something they taught at Hogwarts, and it was definitely not something he had picked up in conversation in the last two years, having spent the first one mostly with Hermione and Ron, who he doubted had been more experienced than he was at the time, and the second one with instructors in advanced Auror training. But he also knew he had to learn something somewhere as he wanted Ginny to enjoy being with him as much as he knew he enjoyed being with her.

"Harry," she whispered.

Harry was surprised she wasn't asleep either. He became even more surprised when he felt her hand timidly closing around him. He gasped and almost instantly, he responded to her with another uncomfortable erection.

"Harry," she whispered again, her lips finding his.

She kissed him deeply, passionately.

"I want you inside of me," she said to his ear.

Her request almost drove him completely wild. But he had the presence of mind to roll on his side and take her face in his hands, trying to see her expression with his blurry vision.

"I don't want to hurt you," he said, searching her face. "I'm – I'm afraid I'll hurt you again."

"I need you inside of me," she said, and he heard the pain and loneliness in her voice, the same king of loneliness he had felt when he had been away from her for the last two years.

"Ginny," he said. "Ginny, I'm not going anywhere."

Her hand, as inexperienced as she was, became more insistent and he took a deep breath, closing his eyes.

"Fill the emptiness, Harry," she whispered.

He was so afraid to hurt her again but the demand of her hand was so pressing, he just didn't know how to resist it anymore.

He rolled onto her and he felt himself slid into her again. This time, he felt less resistance, but she was still tight. After a few minutes of stillness, to give her more time to adjust to his size again, he moved. Almost immediately, she winced in pain. He stopped moving, afraid, and began to lose his erection.

"Ginny, I can't," he said on the verge of panic. "I can't hurt you like this… Ginny, I love you too much to hurt you."

But she moved under him, bringing her legs around his waist. The feel of her made him hard again, and encouraged by her hands on his hips, he began to move again, very slowly.

"Harry," she whispered against his ear and he felt her probing contractions again.

And then, she gasped, and shivered under him, biting her lower lips between her teeth. He kept on moving, and he came again, loosing himself in her.

After a few seconds immobile in her, he caressed her face and asked "Are you okay?"

"Yes," she said sleepily. "But I'd like a bath right about now."

"I'll run it for you, if you want."

She nodded.

Naked, he grabbed his wand and walked to the bathroom. He ran hot water, added soothing herbs and stirred the water with his wand, murmuring spells under his breath. He had just turned off the tap when Ginny walked into the bathroom, as naked as he was. He helped her into the tub and she pulled on his hand, inviting him in with her. He looked at their joined hands and saw the blood on her inner leg. He then looked at himself and saw more blood.

"Ginny!" he exclaimed alarmed. "You're – you're bleeding!"

"Don't worry, Harry. It's normal," she said quietly, pulling on his hand again and sitting in the bathtub.

Slowly, he washed her and she washed him. Harry found enormous pleasure in this intimacy which allowed him to discover more of the woman he loved so much. Her body was a never ending treasure to him, and he wanted to worship it all night long. He didn't know how long they had been in the water but it was significantly colder when they got out. They went back to bed and, as he laid there, Ginny comfortably snuggled against him, he promised himself he would find a way to make Ginny's experiences as earth shattering as his.

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Harry was walking through a maze, the same one he had found himself in during the last task of the Tri-Wizard Tournament. There were voices, whispers calling his name. He walked into a clearing and the cup was right in front of him. So were Cedric Diggory, Remus Lupin, and Voldemort.

"They died for you, Harry. You let them die!" laughed the latter, pointing at the dead.

"No… no…" protested Harry.

"_Pacis somnium!_" he heard Ginny whisper, and he drifted towards a warm and welcoming oblivion.

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Harry woke up the next morning surprisingly refreshed and rested. For a second, he wondered if he had dreamt his night with Ginny but she was right there, her head on his shoulder, her naked body pressed against his.  
"Good morning," she said quietly.

"Morning," he said, kissing the top of her head.

Ginny stretched like a cat, and then rested half her body over his, her leg across his thighs.

"Can we stay here all day?" she asked sleepily.

Being with her like this, even if it was the first time, felt so real to Harry that he smiled. He was happy to have her snuggled against him and he resisted the urge to respond to her which he knew she would feel against her leg.

"Ginny?" he whispered.

"Mmh!" she said.

"I love you, Ginevra Molly Weasley," he stated gently.

For the first time in his life, he said these three words to somebody and it felt... wonderful, right, and completely true.

Startled, Ginny looked up into his eyes. As he did not have his glasses on, she was a little blurry but he knew he had her undivided attention.

"I have loved you since I stopped being stupid for long enough to realize you were not only my best friend's little sister but also a beautiful, intelligent and funny girl who I loved to be with."

Ginny rested her head on his shoulder.

"And I want you to know another thing: we may end up separated from time to time, and I may not be able to send you an owl, but do know I _will_ be back if you'll have me... because for me, there's no life worth living if I cannot share it with you."

"I love you, Harry James Potter," whispered Ginny. "And do know I will be waiting for you because for me, there is only you… Just don't make me wait too long without giving any news, okay?" she added in a more playful tone, looking up at him again. "Because the wait nearly killed me last time," she added more seriously.

"I'll try," said Harry. "I promise I'll try."

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Ginny had barely left to go shopping with Hermione when Harry Apparated to Shell Cottage. He hadn't forgotten the vow he had made as he felt asleep the previous night, and he was determined to make sure Ginny would enjoy herself as much as he did the next time they were together. And he thought the best person to ask was Fleur.

Fleur was French and supposedly French people knew quite a few things about love. Didn't the saying say, after all, that the French invented love?

Before his resolve could evaporate, Harry knocked on the door and was lucky to find Fleur at home, alone.

" 'Arry, what a surprise!" she exclaimed. "Come in!"

Harry knew he was blushing before he even walked through the door.

"To what do I owe the 'onour of your visit?" she asked with a smile, indicating he should sit at the table, and taking a seat herself.

"Fleur," he began nervously. "I… I need help."

"Yes? What can I 'elp you with?" she asked concerned.

Harry, if it were possible, turned even redder.

"I… I want to know…" he began but could not finish his sentence.

Fleur remained silent for a moment, waiting on him to continue. Harry knew he was now as red as he had ever been and he thought the room was uncomfortably warm.

"Let me 'elp you," said Fleur, finally. "Is it about Ginny?"

Harry nodded, keeping his eyes firmly on the table in front of him.

"Is it very intimate?"

Harry nodded again.

"I want to know how... how to... you know," he said slowly, still not looking at Fleur.

Harry waited for Fleur to make fun of him but it didn't come.

" 'Arry," she said, standing up and putting the kettle on the stove, "you definitely _are_ a very selfless person," she continued gently, putting a tea bag in the kettle.

She turned and looked at him with no trace of mockery.

"And you _are_ one of the greatest men I know," she added with sincere appreciation for what he had just requested

Harry looked at her in surprise and confusion.

"I say that because it takes a great man to 'ave the courage to admit 'e doesn't quite know 'ow to pleasure 'is woman. So yes, 'Arry, I will tell you everything I know… I am the one who taught Bill everything 'e knows," she added with her typical smugness.

A few minutes later, they were sipping tea and Fleur, assisted with diagrams, explained to him everything she knew. Harry was surprised by the extent of what he was learning. When he left later that afternoon, with the promise from Fleur she wouldn't say a word of his visit, he was confident he could make it better for Ginny.

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	8. Chapter 7  The Intrusion

I don't own Harry and gang. Thank you JKR for having the foresight to give us a wonderful world to play in!

Fluff included.

Thanks beta ZephyrDragon!

CHAPTER 7 – The intrusion

"Harry? Harry! You're not listening to me! What's the matter with you?"

Harry had agreed to meet Hermione the next day, while Ginny was at Quidditch practice. They were sitting at the back of Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour in Dragon Alley. Florean Fortescue himself was no longer with them, having perished in the war, but his daughter Florence had taken over the business in honour of her father who had valiantly fought against the Death Eaters during the war.

Despite Hermione's request of sitting outside to enjoy the warm weather, Harry had adamantly refused. He still did not like to be seen in public or make himself an easy target for any Dark Wizard who happened to be passing by. He had chosen a table at the back of the shop, and had sat with his back to the wall, surveying the rest of the restaurant for potential enemies. A few of the other patrons who had recognized them had whispered "Harry Potter! Hermione Granger!" as they had walked by and some were still looking in their direction.

"Sorry, Hermione... What were you saying?" he asked, taking his eyes off of his surveillance and looking at Hermione

"I was saying…"

"Well, well, well! If it's not Harry Potter! And Hermione Granger!"

Harry would have recognized this voice he disliked so profoundly anywhere. In the second he had taken his eyes away from the front door, she had sneaked in like a little annoying bug.

"Good morning, Rita," said Hermione sweetly, turning to look at the woman who was now standing next to their table. "Have you destroyed anybody's life lately?"

Harry was fuming and could barely control himself. He could not believe he had been stupid enough to drop his constant vigilance. He was lucky the only bad thing to happen was Rita Skeeter, since a Death Eater would have undoubtedly been more unpleasant, if not deadly...

It was the first time he had seen the reporter since she had written Dumbledore's biography, and the only thing he wanted to do was to transfigure her into a rat so she could go and live with her kin. However, after a moment he considered the option to be inconsiderate for the rats.

"Tsk! Tsk! Such an unbecoming question from such a lovely girl," said Rita lightly.

"Rita, in case you didn't notice, you're not welcomed here," said Hermione coldly, losing any pretence at civility. "Go and find someone else to annoy!"

With her chin in the air, Rita walked away, tripping on the door step. Harry and Hermione exploded with laugher as they watched her disappear into the street.

"I hate that woman," said Hermione, turning to Harry and sharing a grin with him.

"That makes two of us!" said Harry, looking back at the street where Rita had vanished.

He frowned. Judging by the direction she had taken, he should still be able to see her.

"So, tell me, why are you so… distracted today?" asked Hermione, bringing back his attention to her.

Harry did not answer. He simply grinned at Hermione who inhaled sharply.

"You did not!" she exclaimed.

"Yeah," he said, blushing furiously.

"Tell me: was it like you'd imagined?"

"Hermione!" exclaimed Harry surprised by her curiosity.

"I want to know," she said unapologetically.

"And I don't want to tell you... but I did tell her not to worry; I won't leave her."

"Oh, Harry! You're so sweet! Ron could definitely take a pointer or two from you… He's not very romantic, you know… I don't think he had a lot of very good advices, with five brothers and all. Can you believe he still hasn't asked me to Commit yet? And we've been dating for how long now?"

"Commit? What do you mean?" asked Harry.

"What? You don't know?"

"No," answered Harry, wondering how many other things he didn't know of the wizarding world, despite having lived in it for the last nine years.

"It's this old wizarding tradition, you see. Before a wizard and a witch get Engaged, they Commit to one another, she began, in full lecture mode. "It's a little like the Claddagh ring tradition, if you would. Actually, the Claddagh ring tradition _is_ inspired by the Wizarding Commitment however, with the status of secrecy, other explanations have to be provided for the origin of the ring.

"The Claddagh ring can be worn four different ways: one to show you are not involved with anyone, one to show somebody has captured your heart, another one to show you are engaged and the last one to show you are married.

"The Commitment shows somebody has captured your heart and the ring is worn on the middle finger of the left hand. The Commitment is also a little more binding than the Claddagh ring tradition as it contains some elements of the Unbreakable Vow worked into it."

"Unbreakable vow? Isn't it a little… much?" asked Harry, remembering the consequences of the Unbreakable Vow Snape had taken.

"Not really. The vow can actually be broken after a period of time if the heart doesn't stay captured… It's a little like an Engagement, really, but a step down from it, if you will."

"Does Ron even know about this?"

"Yes, Angelina and George Committed last year. Apparently they were the first ones to follow the tradition since Aunt Muriel. For once in her life, she actually approved of George."

"Wow! And Ron hasn't… Committed? Or ask you to?"

"No, which is a little disappointing since we've been dating for over two years. It's as if I haven't captured his heart."

"Does he even know you want to follow the tradition?"

"Well, I left some books on the subject lying around," said Hermione.

"You mean to tell me Ron reads book now? Have I been gone that long?"

"Oh! You've got a point there, Harry," said Hermione with a sigh. "Ron does not usually read books unless it is about Quidditch…"

Harry shrugged, taking another mouthful of ice cream while he surveyed the Parlour. While he looked around, his mind wandered again. He had very much wanted to try what Fleur had shown him the day before, but Ginny had to go to Quidditch today and he didn't want her to be tired. She hadn't come to his room and he hadn't dared to seek her out. As much as sleeping next to her would have been immensely satisfying, even fully dressed, he knew she would not have got much sleep, and she needed the rest.

"Enough about me! What about you? What have you and Ginny been doing these past few days?" asked Hermione, bringing his attention back to her.

"We went to visit Buckingham Palace and the House of Parliament. She was intrigued by the Muggle government system. She wondered how the Muggles can keep it all organised. I think Ginny understands why I like it in the Muggle world: no staring... no 'Harry Potter' whispers everywhere I go."

"Now that you mention it, I think that's why Ron _doesn't_ like it much there," said Hermione, laughing. "I think he prefers by far all the attention."

"He can have it!" said Harry. "I would love to be plain old nobody Harry!"

"Yes, you probably would."

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That night, dinner with Ginny had been a wonderful and peaceful moment. Again, she had told him about Quidditch and Harry had just enjoyed just listening to her. Following dinner, they had spent the evening sitting in the Drawing Room, reading and listening to Muggle music. Ginny definitely had a taste for it, especially the local artists. It had been almost midnight when she had stood up and said: "It's late. I think I'm going to call it a night."

Harry, freshly showered and holding his pyjamas in his hands, was sitting on his bed, wondering if he should join Ginny in her bedroom for the night. He wanted to be with her so much, he felt almost sick with need. She didn't have Quidditch practice the next morning, but he didn't know if he should go to her, or if Ginny would want him to.

The last two years had changed her. While Harry knew Ginny would stand up to him if she didn't want him around, the Ginny he had seen these past few days was so much quieter than the forceful and fierce girl he had known at Hogwarts. Somehow, she had, like him, grown older and, while she was still quite independent, she was also a lot more introverted and withdrawn. He wondered if the Carrows had done that to her.

Regardless of how much she may have changed, his heart, his mind and his soul still craved her as much as his body now did, and he knew, deep in his heart, he would never be able to love anyone else like he did her.

He was still debating the idea of joining herwhen he heard someone on the stairway. A few moments later, the door opened and Ginny entered his bedroom, closing the door behind her. Harry realised at that moment he was still holding his pyjamas in his hands, and thoughts of her had had its usual effect on his body. He blushed when he realised Ginny could see it too.

However, Ginny was not looking at him. She was staring at the floor and hesitantly, she walked to him.

"I don't want to be alone," she said shyly. "Ever again!"

She removed her bathrobe and let it slide to the floor, revealing the same sleeveless nightdress she was wearing two nights before. She climbed onto his bed, removed her nightdress, and threw it to the floor next to her bathrobe. She lay down behind Harry and pulled the blanket over her.

Harry, looking at the bathrobe and the nightdress on the floor at his feet in surprise, just sat there without moving for a few seconds. He shook his head to clear it, turned off most of the candles with a flick of his wand, removed his glasses and turned to Ginny. She looked back at him, uncertain, waiting to see what he would do next. He lay on his side under the blanket next to her and began to trace small circles on her shoulder with his finger, looking at her with a contented smile. He kissed her hair, not sure if he should take things further. Relaxing, Ginny snuggled against his chest, her head resting close to his shoulder, her eyes closed.

With his finger, he began to slowly follow the scar from her left shoulder to her right hip. He had just reached the space between her breasts when suddenly, Ginny's eyes flew open and she pushed his hand away. Harry realised the scar was probably a very sensitive issue for Ginny and maybe he shouldn't have tried to trace it. His suspicions were confirmed when Ginny rolled on her side, turning her back on him.

'_What?'_ wondered Harry, completely taken aback by her reaction. The last thing he had expected was for Ginny to react so strongly as to pull away from him. He debated for a moment if he should leave her alone. If she had been Ron, he would have let her figure things out on her own before approaching her... but this was Ginny, the woman he loved and the one he knew had suffered greatly in his absence. In the last few years, he himself had only been happy when she was with him. He couldn't let her pull away from him like this, visibly hurt by her past.

Slowly, he pulled her back towards him, pulling her body against his, all desire forgotten in her moment of distress. Gently, he kissed her temple and just held her, letting her know, by his presence, he was there for her. He wanted so much to know what was wrong, but he figured she would talk when she was ready... and he wasn't disappointed.

"I was coming back from the library shortly before Easter," she began. "We always travelled in pairs... It was just too dangerous to do otherwise. We were almost to the stairway to the dormitory when Crabbe surprised us. He knocked the other girl I was with on the head with something... I think it was a statue of some sort... and before I knew it, she was lying unconscious and I was stuck in a full body bind.

"He dragged me into a classroom and... and he took out a knife... A big, huge knife. He cut my clothes with it. Let me tell you, he doesn't have a lot of skill with a knife," she added with a sad chuckle, "he managed cut me, too.

"I have never been so afraid in my entire life. I have never regretted that we hadn't made love before you left as much as I did then..."

Brusquely, she wiped the tears that were now falling from her eyes.

Harry was tensed with hatred. He wished, at that moment, he could resurrect Crabbe so he could killed him again, slowly and painfully. How dare he touch Ginny like this? Harry felt the huge to stand up and pace his frustration around the room. It took all his willpower to actually stay where he was, holding Ginny, giving her the strength he knew she wanted and found in his arms.

"He ripped off my clothes and... and pulled down his pants," she added with a sob. "I never saw anything so disgusting in my entire life... I was so afraid I would be repulsed by you, too.

"Then he said he wanted to hear me scream, so he unfroze me. Stupid git! As soon as I was free, I kneed him, hard. Unfortunately for me, I had lost so much blood already. My head was spinning and I couldn't get away quick enough.

"He was about to catch me again when Neville arrived... The paintings, Harry, they went and got him.

"I was so disgusted with myself; I didn't want anybody to see me, or touch me, or look at me. Neville patched me up as best he could and that night, I slept in your bed while Neville just watched over me.

"The next morning, the cut had got infected pretty badly. I was feverish so Neville went to get McGonagall. Somehow, she got Madam Pomfrey to the dormitory to see me... but by that time, it was too late to prevent the scar.

"Somehow, McGonagall managed to get a message to Mum... That's why she kept me home after Easter - it was just too dangerous for me to go back... You see, since I'm a pure blood, they considered I wouldn't contaminate them... but at the same time, I was a blood traitor, so it meant they could try to do whatever they wanted with me. That time was too close a call... McGonagall just couldn't take the risk of keeping me at school."

Harry just held her, kissing her hair gently.

"I always wondered if you would be repulsed by me once you saw it," she said, turning around in his arms and looking into his eyes.

"How can I? Ginny, I'm not in love with you because of the way you look. I'm in love with you because of who you are. The fact you are drop dead gorgeous is only an added bonus as far as I'm concerned," he said to her sincerely.

She looked at his chest, at the dragon which was covering his own scar.

"You really mean that, don't you?" she asked, caressing the dragon.

"Yes, I do," he answered, kissing her forehead.

She looked up at him and kissed him softly, then insistently. Harry could feel himself getting hard against her belly. Here was the woman he loved, naked in his arms, kissing him with a hunger that took his breath away. And he wanted her so much... but he also wanted this moment to be all about her, all about the love he felt for her. He remembered Fleur's instructions and let his love guide his movements.

Without breaking their kiss, he gently pushed her on her back. His hand found one of her breast, which he hadn't dared touch the two nights before. She gasped in surprise and moaned softly against his mouth. Once her nipple was hard, he took the other breast in his hand and caressed it until it became as hard as the first one. All the while, Ginny breading became harder.

When both her nipples were hard, he caressed her flat stomach, moving lower and lower still, until his hand found her pubic hair. With his inexperienced finger, he probed her and soon discovered, guided by her reaction to his probing, her centre of pleasure. She moaned even louder, and in less time than he thought it would take, she came, whispering his name. He could now feel with his finger how very ready she was to accept him into her.

She looked at him and, he could see, by the dimmed light, that her eyes were very shinny and somewhat unfocused. Her lips founds his and she kissed him again, her lips begging for what her body so desired. She pulled him on top of her and slowly, he eased his way into her. She was still tight but her lubrication made his progress a lot easier. He still moved slowly and he was relieved that not once did she wince in pain.

He moved into her, with a regular rhythm, and more than once he had to stop, so close was he to coming. But he refused to give in to it until he could give Ginny the pleasure she deserved. And finally, what he had hoped for happened; Ginny began to contract erratically around him, moaning with her climax, her face against his shoulder. Feeling the contractions all around him, he could not help himself and came too, his moans joining hers.

He rolled off of her and pulled her on him. She lay there, panting, completely covering him.

"How?" she simply asked a few minutes later.

"Do you really want to know?" he asked softly.

She didn't answer so he didn't explain. He simply enjoyed the feel of her on him, and the ability to caress her back and her long hair.

"I love you Harry James Potter," she whispered.

"I love you Ginevra Molly Weasley."

Very soon, she was sleeping and, content, and Harry followed her into sleep.

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The next morning, Harry was sitting at the table eating breakfast with Ginny when she squeezed his hand hard. Holding hands with her, he had been reading a book on Defence Against the Dark Arts over his breakfast, while she was reading the Daily Prophet.

Harry looked up from his book and saw her eyes opened wide in surprise.

"What?" he asked.

She turned the paper towards him and Harry saw a picture of himself, next to one of Ginny in her Quidditch uniform.

Harry Potter – The most eligible bachelor now taken!

_By Rita Skeeter_

Harry Potter, Conqueror of You-Know-Who, is no longer on the market for romance. The Boy-Who-Lived is now dating his best friend's little sister, Ginny Weasley, the recently recruited Holyhead Harpies Chaser.

One must wonder if Weasley, a few years younger than him, is not so desperate for attention that she went as far as bewitching our poor hero. "I think she did," said Pansy Parkinson. "I think she bewitched him. He never set eyes on her at school."

While the couple has not been seen in the wizarding world, they spent a significant amount of time in the Muggle world. "Ginny understands why I like it in the Muggle world," said Potter. Will Weasley, who is the daughter of famous Muggle lover and Head of the Office for the Detection and Confiscation of Counterfeit Defensive Spells and Protective Objects, Arthur Weasley, use her influence over Potter to promote her family views into the wizarding community? Her efforts seem to be already gaining success with our hero, who now seems to prefer the company of Muggles to the company of his own kind…

"How in the world did she find out we were dating?" asked Ginny, sounding as annoyed as Harry felt.

"No idea," answered Harry. "How did she…"

But he never finished what he was about to say as he suddenly remembered the conversation he had with Hermione the day before. He remembered saying to Hermione the quote Rita used in her article. It could only mean one thing: she had been listening to them!

"Malda!" called Harry, now furious.

"Harry, what's going on?" asked Ginny puzzled.

"Yes, Master?" asked Malda, Apparating right next to Harry.

"Malda, do me a favour, would you? Take this to Hermione at the Ministry, show her this article, and ask her what she thinks."

"Yes, Master."

Malda Disapparated with the newspaper.

"Harry?" prompted Ginny again.

"She's done it again!" said Harry, standing up and pacing alongside the table. "Rita Skeeter transformed into her bug, and spied on Hermione and me yesterday afternoon when we were in Diagon Alley."

"Oh! I see," said Ginny.

She watched him pace for a few moments, then a grin appeared on her face.

"You know, come to think of it, it is amusing actually," said Ginny.

"Amusing?" asked Harry, stopping in his tracks. "She spied on me!"

"And she called me attention seeking," replied Ginny. "Now, you have to admit, that _is_ quite funny. I've already got all the attention I want with the Harpies and being a _war hero_ myself... Who do you think will believe a word she wrote? Everybody has read all about me in the newspaper already, anyway."

Harry grinned back at her. He had to give it to her to find humour in some more fabrications by Rita Skeeter.

"You know, I wonder what her Patronus looks like," she added thoughtfully.

"A giant cockroach, maybe?" he answered amused.

"That would be fitting!"

"Very much so."

Malda Apparated next to Harry.

"Master, Miss Granger said: "This witch should know better than to spy on us. I'll make sure she remembers that"."

"Thank you, Malda," said Harry with a smile. "It takes care of it, then," he added, sitting down.

He took Ginny's hand in his and returned to his book.

"Harry, I was wondering…" began Ginny after a few seconds of silence. "Have you ever thought about changing bedroom?"

Harry looked at her frowning, wondering why she was asking.

"As much as I love spending my nights with you, I do not really fancy being stared at by women in bikinis who do not have the decency to turn around when we're together," she explained, blushing almost as red as her hair.

Harry just laughed. While she was right, her request was actually funny.

"I have no problems with moving," said Harry. "Actually, it's a brilliant idea. I think it's about time we occupy the master bedroom, don't you think? However, it may take a few days to fix it up. If you remember, the last occupant was Buckbeak," added Harry.

For the next week, Harry, with the help of Kreacher and Malda, worked on cleaning and restoring the master bedroom every time Ginny was away to Quidditch. Harry also spent some mornings at the Burrow, learning and perfecting his healing skills. He was not as good as Mrs Weasley but she told him he was better than average since most people did not bother learning any healing skills at all. Harry didn't know if it meant he was any good, but if it meant he could make Ginny comfortable when she was hurt, and heal her minor injuries, it was good enough for him.

He got to practice his new skills when Malda hurt herself helping him with the bedroom renovation. His skills had shown to be surprisingly improved and he healed Malda pretty well.

A week and a half after Ginny's request, Harry was finally ready for them to move into the master bedroom. After a very small amount of consideration, he had decided to decorate this room after his Gryffindor dormitory. The walls were now a rich red with incrusted gold designs. The floor was a dark golden hardwood, and the four-post bed was set on a dais, red drapes hanging down each side. Harry had also bought two antique wardrobes and a chest of drawers in the same golden wood as the floor. He also found an antique dressing table with a large mirror and a small stool for Ginny. Finally, he had placed a comfortable love seat in front of the fireplace, with a fluffy golden carpet right in front of it.

On the wall, next to his bed, he had installed the painting of the Marauders, which he had cut out of Sirius' bedroom wall. He would eventually have to get rid of all the walls in that bedroom as he hadn't found a way to remove just the posters, which were stuck on with permanent glue.

All in all, any Gryffindor would have found themselves quite at home in this redecorated master bedroom.

That night, when he showed the room to Ginny, she smiled.

"This feels like – home, doesn't it?" she asked.

"You like it?" asked Harry.

"Oh, yes!" she answered, walking around the room and stopping in front of the dressing table.

Malda had already put Ginny's things on it.

"You know, during the war, the Gryffindor tower was one of our only solaces from the Carrows," she said quietly. "We knew Professor McGonagall would never have given the password or let any of them in. It was one of the only places we were safe and found comfort.

"While the Gryffindor represents 'home' to you, it represents 'safety' to me."

She turned to look at Harry.

"I will always love places which remind me of Gryffindor, Harry. And even more when I get to share them with you."

She walked to him and took refuge in his arms.

"You could not have chosen better," she said against his chest. "Honestly, you could not have."

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Harry and Ginny were fast asleep that night when they were shaken awake by a very frightened Malda.

"Malda, what's wrong?" asked Harry surprised, instantly awake.

"Master, there is an intruder in the kitchen!" she said fearfully. "He just Apparated there, and Malda and Kreacher do not know him!"

"Malda, you and Kreacher hide yourself in the attic and do not come out until Ginny or I tell you to, okay?" said Harry urgently, reaching for his pyjamas.

Malda Disapparated while Harry got dressed, reached for his glasses and grabbed his wand. As much as he wanted to tell Ginny to hide, he knew she would not and besides, he may need her. She was after all a very good duellist.

"I disarm and you petrify?" he asked Ginny.

"Yes," she whispered, slipping her nightdress over her head.

Harry pulled out his Invisibility Cloak and hid them underneath it. They walked out of the bedroom and awaited the intruder at the top of the stairway, looking down towards the second floor. Harry figured if he was up to no good, the intruder was bound to come up and look for them. And he was not disappointed. A few seconds after they had taken position, they saw light on the second floor and heard someone who was quietly searching the rooms one by one. The intruder was very thorough in his search and took his time, as if expecting no one would wake before he found them.

The intruder finally came into view and was slowly placing his foot on the first step up when Harry yelled: "_Expelliarmus_!" and Ginny said: "_Petrificus totallus!_"

The intruder's wand flew away and he froze at attention, falling to the floor. Harry and Ginny ran to him while Harry lit all the lights with a flick of his wand.

"Yaxley!" he said when he saw who it was. "Yaxley! But you're supposed to be dead!" he yelled in frustration, violently kicking the man in the ribs.

"How did he get in?" asked Ginny. "The Fidelius Charm?"

"He grabbed Hermione when we tried to Apparate here during the war," said Harry. "Ginny, go to the Burrow while I take him to the Ministry lock up. Take Kreacher, Malda and the baby with you. Once you're there, send an owl to Hermione and tell her to come tomorrow morning first thing. It is time we reset the Fidelius Charm and Hermione is the best I know with protection spells. I'll join you there as soon as I am done with _this_."

Ginny nodded firmly and left to get the house-elves.

"And you!" said Harry, turning to Yaxley. "You're going to jail! _Mobilicorpus!_"

Harry levitated Yaxley to the kitchen and took the Floo network to the Ministry. At that time of night, the place was deserted except for a guard.

"Mr Potter," he said, recognizing Harry at once.

He looked Harry up and down, and frowned to see him wearing pyjamas.

"Late night, I see," said the guard.

"We could say that, all right," said Harry annoyed. "I found this vermin crawling in my house just now," he said, pointing at the floating Yaxley. "And I would like very much to show him the inside of an Auror cell."

The guard, who had worked at the Ministry during the war, recognized Yaxley at once.

"We wouldn't want to prevent our guest from enjoying our hospitality, would we?" said the guard with a charming smile, walking from behind his desk. "Let's show this…_thing_… how cosy things are nowadays, shall we?"

The guard walked towards the lifts followed by Harry and the floating Yaxley. Ten minutes later, Yaxley was enclosed in a magical cell of the Auror's Department. Neither the guard nor Harry saw fit to remove the Petrify curse.

"Would you do me a favour?" asked Harry once they were back in the lift.

"Of course, Mr Potter," answered the guard.

"Would you tell Head Holmes I will drop by in the afternoon to explain all this?"

The lift doors opened into the lobby.

"No problem, Mr Potter," answered the guard, following Harry out of the lift. "Good night, now."

"Night," said Harry, taking the Floo Network to the Burrow.

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The next morning, after a thorough search of the house, Hermione reset the Fidelius charm with Harry as the secret keeper. They then tested its effectiveness by asking Ron to try and pay a visit to Grimmauld Place. The charm proved to be a success. After sharing the secret with Ron, Harry, accompanied by Ginny, visited all the Weasleys and their closest friends to share the location of Harry's home.

As he had promised, Harry went to meet Head Holmes early in the afternoon.

"I see that when you are not working, work seems to find you," said Holmes with an amused smile when Harry walked into his office.

Harry closed the door and sat in one of the chairs in front of Holmes' desk. The Head Auror took his wand and casted a Muffliato charm on the door.

"You're quite the talk of the office this morning," he said still amused. "Not only are you the best and most effective Auror we've got since Moody, you catch Death Eaters when you're not trying! Actually, you're such a Death Eater magnet, Harry, I wonder why we don't put someone down in Knockturn Alley with a sign that says 'Here stands Harry Potter'!"

"You may be surprised, sir," said Harry with a grin. "By the look of some of them, they may actually fall for it."

"I take it you have secured your house?" asked Holmes, becoming serious.

"Yes, sir," answered Harry.

"Fidelius?"

"Yes, sir."

Head Auror Holmes waited a few seconds expecting Harry to reveal the location of his house however Harry didn't do so. He may be working for Holmes but he had known him for a very short time. Besides, he would not share the secret with anybody until he had discussed it with Ginny. After all, since she was now practically living with him, her safety also depended on the secret remaining secret.

"You're wise beyond your years, Harry Potter," said Holmes after a few moments of silence. "I would not have told myself either!" he added, chuckling. "But I can tell something is bothering you."

"Well, sir, I thought Yaxley had died of his injuries after the Battle of Hogwarts."

"So did we," said Holmes so seriously that Harry raised an eyebrow. "Finding him in our jail this morning has more than your co-workers in an uproar, and for very different reasons… You see, if Yaxley did not die after the Battle, who died in his place and who is buried in the Azkaban cemetery? And if he could get away, how did he do it and, most importantly, how many others managed to get away as well, others we know nothing about? As you can imagine, all this is making the Ministry very uneasy and, of course, we are investigating this issue very carefully.

"Anything else you are thinking about, related to Yaxley's break in?"

"It was too easy," added Harry hesitantly, not sure himself why Yaxley's capture had seemed so odd to him, other than the fact Yaxley was supposed to be dead.

"What do you mean?" asked Holmes.  
"Well, sir…" Harry hesitated. "The Yaxley I knew might not be the nicest person in the world, but he was not stupid, sir… It doesn't make sense for him to break into my house alone. I just don't think he would have done something so stupid, not after so long on the run. Yaxley was ambitious, sir. I don't think he would have taken such a risk just to get to me, especially since everybody thought him dead. I thought it would be more like him to try and gain followers to get more power, not reveal he actually got away.

"My thoughts exactly," said Holmes. "The only explanation we could find for this strange behaviour is that he was forced somehow."

Harry looked up quickly.

"Imperius curse, sir?"

"Maybe," answered Holmes. "And if it's the case…"

"But if it's the case, the person who sent him is going to reveal a lot more than the fact Yaxley survived and escaped. He would indicate to _us_ that it happened, and he must have known we were bound to investigate... Anyway we look at this, it isn't good, sir," said Harry.

"No, it's not good," affirmed Holmes. "However, you, young man, are supposed to be on holiday," said Holmes with a totally different tone. "Therefore, this is _not_ something for you to worry about – or at least, not yet."

Harry was not happy to find out he was not allowed to come back to work just yet, but he had to admit to himself he was really enjoying his time with Ginny and wasn't ready for it to end.

Harry stood up and left when he saw Head Auror Holmes was now concentrating on his paperwork, effectively dismissing him. When he arrived at the house, he found Ginny sitting at the kitchen table, reading one of his Defence Against the Dark Arts books. Kreacher was busy cooking dinner while Malda was feeding her baby.

"How did it go?" asked Ginny.

"Well, I think," answered Harry.  
"You've got an owl," said Ginny pointing her chin towards the kitchen cupboard. "A very persistent one! He wouldn't let me remove the letter from him."

Harry walked to the owl and took the letter from its leg. As soon as he was free, the owl disappeared up the chimney. Harry looked at the letter and opened the envelope with a frown.

Dear Harry Potter,

You are hereby summoned to a meeting with Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt tomorrow morning at 10am.

Percy Weasley, Minister's Personal Assistant

Harry gave the letter to Ginny.

"Typical!" said Ginny amused. "Not even a 'Hello you lot, how are you doing?' Why do you think they want to see you anyway?"

"Don't know," answered Harry. "Probably got to do with Yaxley not being as dead as we thought he was."

Harry told her of his conversation with Holmes.

"Sounds to me like he learned something from the Order's operating book," said Ginny.

"What do you mean?"

"Using Polyjuice Potion to confuse the opponent," said Ginny, shrugging.

Harry stared at her.

"Why didn't it occur to me?" he asked.

He went to the study and came back a few minutes later with a letter in his hand.

"You know, we really need an owl," he said to Ginny.

"Master wants a letter delivered?" asked Malda, getting to her feet.

"Yes but you're taking care of your baby, Malda. It can wait," answered Harry.

"Malda will be but a minute sir," she said visibly eager to help Harry.

Harry looked at her for a few moments than gave her the letter.

"This goes to Sherlock Holmes, but…"

However, Harry did not have time to tell her to wait until she was done feeding the baby as she had already Disapparated. Harry had only time to sigh before she came back.

"Done, sir!" she said with a smile.

Ginny looked up at him, laughing amused.

"We _are_ getting an owl," said Harry exasperated.


	9. Chapter 8 The Assignment

I would like to take a minute to thank everyone who is following my story. I also want to thank Harmenrocket for adding my story to her C2 of favourite stories. Thanks to all of you who reviewed. And finally, thanks to my beta, ZephyrDragon.

I do not own HP and I thank JKR with all my heart for giving us a wonderful world to play in!

CHAPTER 8 – The assignment

The next morning, Harry presented himself at the Ministry shortly before ten o'clock. He was waiting to be called in when Hermione walked into the waiting room, her nose in a book. She took a seat, not noticing him at all.

"Hermione," said Harry with a chuckle, gaining her attention.

"Harry! What are you doing here?" she asked, surprised to see him.

"I've got an appointment with the Minister at ten. You?"

Hermione frowned and was opening her mouth to answer when Percy walked in.

"The Minister will see you now," he said, holding the door open.

Harry walked towards the door and realised Hermione was following him.

"You, too?" he asked her.

"Yes," she answered, as nervous as if she had been called to the Headmaster's office.

Wondering what this was about, Harry followed Percy through a long corridor with open doors on both sides. Through those openings, Harry could see witches and wizards busily working behind wood desks. Compared to the Auror office, this place was very quiet and orderly.

Percy knocked on the door at the end of the corridor, and entered before receiving an answer. He waved Harry and Hermione inside and closed the door behind them, leaving them alone in a sumptuously decorated office. The opposite wall consisted of a floor to ceiling window which afforded them an incredible view of the atrium. The office was furnished, at one end, with six luxurious leather chairs placed around a low coffee table, and, at the other end, with a massive mahogany desk behind which could be seen a wall to wall bookshelf with an impressive collection of books.

A few moments after leaving them, Percy reappeared, carrying a teapot and four cups on a tray, which he placed on the coffee table. As he left them, another door opened on the wall next to the bookshelf and Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt entered followed by Professor McGonagall.

"Sorry to make you wait," said Kingsley, extracting his wand from his robe pocket, and casting a privacy charm on the doors and the windows, which darkened as a result. "We've got some privacy now," he said, sitting in a chair at one end of the coffee table. "Please, sit down," he invited, waving his wand to pour tea for everyone.

He offered cups to his silent and intrigued guests, and took his own. He took a sip and said: "Ah! Perfect!" He set down the cup on his armrest, and looked at Hermione and Harry who were sitting on his right, next to each other. By then, not only was Hermione looking nervous but Harry also felt like he had been caught doing something he wasn't supposed to do.

"By now, you are probably wondering why you have been asked to call on me," he said to them. "Headmistress McGonagall has requested the help of the Ministry," he continued, making a gesture towards the headmistress who was sitting on his left. "Headmistress," he said, turning to her. "Would you care to explain to Miss Granger and Mr Potter?"

"Certainly, Minister," answered Professor McGonagall in her usual crisp and businesslike tone. "At the end of the school year, I discovered something very alarming."

She took a deep breath as if to build up her courage and steady herself.

"I do not know if you remember Sage Livingly?"

Harry and Hermione shook their heads.

"Mr Potter, I'm not surprised you don't; he was in his second year when you were last with us," said Professor McGonagall. "Miss Granger, you may recall the one they nicknamed the 'Trouble Maker'?"

"Yes!" exclaimed Hermione, suddenly remembering. "He's a Ravenclaw, isn't he? I always thought it was odd for a Ravenclaw to get in so much trouble."

"Exactly!" said Professor McGonagall. "I kept wondering why a student we had no problems with for over three years had suddenly become such a problem. And a Ravenclaw, no less! Well, at the end of the year, after he played his permanent glue prank on the Hufflepuff Quidditch team, I had had enough."

Harry remembered Hermione telling him how a student had smothered permanent glue over the Hufflepuff broomsticks, sticking the players to their broom just before the last game of the season. The match had to be rescheduled for the following weekend, and Madam Pomfrey had had to peel the skin off the hands of some of the players to separate them from their brooms. Of course, the skin had to be re-grown and the brooms and uniforms replaced.

"While I was telling him my decision to expel him, the strangest thing happened. It seemed as if two people were fighting inside of him; the arrogant one who was telling me I couldn't possibly expel him, and another one who was quiet, sad, and in tears. This latest personality told me - with great difficulty, I may add - one word: 'help'."

Hermione gasped.

"Was he bewitched?" asked Harry.

"Yes, Mr Potter, he was indeed, and still is," answered Professor McGonagall.

Harry looked at the table in front of him remembering how Barty Crouch Senior had fought with himself to ask Harry to get him to Dumbledore. He had behaved out of character, pretending a tree was Percy Weasley, and giving it orders. It had taken all the efforts in the world for Mr Crouch to beg for Dumbledore.

"The Imperius curse!" said Harry, suddenly looking up at Professor McGonagall.

"Yes, Harry, that is what we suspect," confirmed Professor McGonagall. "I discussed what I found with the Heads of Houses and I have to admit, I really was tempted to close the school. But Professor Flitwick pointed out, and rightly so, that such a move would be the end of Hogwarts, and would be a terrible blow to the moral of the wizarding community who has suffered enough during the last few years. Besides, closing the school would prevent us from finding out why our student was cursed and by whom.

"To tell you the truth, I think Mr Livingly is much safer at Hogwarts where we can keep an eye on him. Of course, we understand the risks of keeping him with us, especially since his behaviour can be quite dangerous, but we figured it was still much safer to keep him. Expelling him may result in another student being cursed, and us not knowing about it."

The four of them remained silent, thinking about the severity of the information Professor McGonagall had provided them.

"You want us to return to Hogwarts, don't you?" asked Hermione, breaking the silence.

"Yes, Miss Granger. That is why I asked the Ministry's help," answered Professor McGonagall. "We usually do not involve the Ministry in Hogwarts administration since you know how catastrophic the results may be, but these are special circumstances that require special skills we simply do not have," she added. "You, Mr Potter, and Mr Weasley have shown us again and again your investigating capabilities and we would greatly appreciate your help with this matter."

Since coming back as students would draw too much attention and Harry suspected the school wanted to keep this incident as quiet as possible, he wondered for a moment how they could come back to Hogwarts without too many questions being asked. Then it hit him.

"You want me to be your Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher," he said, looking at Professor McGonagall.

"Yes, Mr Potter," answered Professor McGonagall with a rare smile. "I have heard from some of your friends that you are quite skilled."

"And you want me for Muggle Studies," said Hermione.

"Yes, Miss Granger. You have shown us all, this past year, how very good you are at it. And we have decided to implement your suggestion and make Muggle Studies a mandatory subject for all students who are not from Muggle families, unless, of course, they show a high level of knowledge on the subject," she added.

"And we expect you to teach the entire year, even if you solve this mystery sooner," said Kingsley. "Rest assured," he continued, "this assignment will not impede your career. In fact, the successful completion of this assignment will replace any further training you may need, Mr Potter. And for you, Miss Granger, it will allow you to gain the position of Advisor III which, I think, is two grades above what you are now.

"In addition, you do realize that this is an undercover assignment. Therefore, we would ask you to limit the amount of people you share your real duties with. Mr and Miss Weasley, perhaps?"

Hermione and Harry looked at one another, smiling.

"As far as the Ministry is concerned, the official statement will be that you both resigned your position following the very tempting offer Hogwarts made to you," he added. "Any questions?"

"Yes, sir," said Harry. "Professor, what curriculum do you want me to use?"

"Mr Potter, it should be obvious!" said Professor McGonagall. "Hogwarts hasn't had a Defence Against the Dark Arts curriculum in years! You may do whatever you want. We just ask that you prepare our students to pass their OWLs and NEWTs, and to survive what may still be lurking out there."

"Harry, I'll help you," offered Hermione. "I'll research what has been tested in the past for OWLs and NEWTs."

"Thanks," said Harry visibly relieved.

"Any other questions?" asked the Minister.

Hermione and Harry shook their head.

"Well, if that is all," said Kingsley. "Mr Potter, as you are already on vacation, we will officially announce your resignation. Please go and clean out your desk before you leave. I will make sure Mr Holmes is not around to ask too many questions," he added with a smile. "Miss Granger, we will announce your resignation this coming Friday, which will be considered your last day. That should give you time to prepare for school."

Following the Minister's lead, everybody stood. After shaking hands, Professor McGonagall left by the door next to the desk while Hermione made her way to the door by which she and Harry had come in.

"Minister, may I have a word?" asked Harry who had remained by the coffee table.

"Yes, Harry," answered Kingsley, walking to his desk.

Harry nodded at Hermione who left without waiting for him. He reset the Muffliato spells on the doors and went to stand in front of Kingsley's desk.

"Minister, you know we reset the Fidelius charm on my house…" began Harry.

"Yes, Harry, but do not share the information with me. The least people know, the more secure it will remain," interrupted Kingsley.

"That is the point, really," said Harry. "However, the 12 Grimmauld Place, which is now my home, has always been a safe haven for the Order of the Phoenix."

"Harry, you shouldn't have," said Kingsley seriously.

"Yes, I should! I want to make sure you have a safe place in case you ever needed it, Minister. Ginny and I will always welcome you into our home."

"Our?" asked Kingsley with an amused smile.

"Well, soon to be 'ours', I hope," said Harry with a grin.

"Let me know when it happens, Harry. I would surely like to be invited to the celebration," he said, offering his hand.

Harry shook it.

"You will, sir. You will."

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"Hogwarts? Your assignment is to go teach at Hogwarts?" asked Ron, amazed. "Bloody hell! Why can't I have an assignment like that?"

Harry had invited Ron and Hermione for dinner, and Hermione had suggested they discuss their new assignment while they were all together.

"Oh! Stop it, Ron! May I remind you that you do not work for the Ministry, therefore you would not qualify to get any Ministry assignment. Beside, you can come and work at the Wheezes in Hogsmeade. That way you'll be able to assist us."

"That's a great idea! Hermione, you're amazing!" he said affectionately.

Harry looked at Ginny sitting next to him and felt his heart was being ripped apart at the idea of being separated from her. As opposed to Ron, who could follow them to Hogsmeade, Ginny would have to remain in London since Quidditch was asking a lot from her. As much as Harry was looking forward to teaching, he was definitely not looking forward to being separated from the woman he loved. He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her towards him.

"I'll miss you," he whispered in her ear.

He doubted Hermione and Ron would hear him as they were still sparring.

"You're not gone yet!" said Ginny with a grin.

And she kissed him.

"Hey! That's my sister you're snogging!" exclaimed Ron, making them all laugh.

"In any case," said Hermione, "teaching is the fun part, but there is more. Professor McGonagall has discovered a fifth year Ravenclaw who has been bewitched."

And Hermione proceeded to tell Ron and Ginny about the rest of their assignment.

"That is why our working for the Ministry should remain between us. Officially, Harry has quit his job and cleaned his desk already, and my quitting will be announced on Friday," concluded Hermione.

"It's just like the old days!" said Ron, excitedly. "Solving mysteries…"

"Oh, Harry, I forgot to tell you," said Hermione, turning towards Harry and pointedly ignoring Ron's mumblings about how the old days were. "We need to turn in our books and other class requirements by Friday so it can be included in the Hogwarts letters which will be sent out next week."

"Already?" asked Harry. "But – but I haven't thought about what I'll teach yet."

"You've been reading Defence books all summer!" said Ginny. "You must have an idea of which ones would work best."

"And Harry, don't forget that two years ago, nobody really got Defence lessons to speak of," said Hermione, referring to when the Death Eaters were controlling the school. "The first and second years will be all right but the others are still behind, and more than a little afraid."

"I was thinking about using some of Lupin's approach," said Harry.

"I think it's a great idea," said Hermione. "He did know what he was doing."

"Yes," said Ginny. "And he made it fun instead of scary."

"So, who knows about your assignment?" asked Ron.

"You, the house-elves, the Head of Houses, and Kingsley," answered Harry.

"That's it?" asked Ron.

"Ron! That's not like it's the first time you're one of the very few in the know, you know," said Hermione.

"But what if I tell someone?"

"You had to keep bigger secrets than this and you did it without a problem. Why should it be any different this time?"

"I don't know," he answered. "Maybe somebody will hit me on the head with a cauldron."

"Don't be ridiculous!" said Hermione. "You know…"

But Harry was no longer listening. He was already lost in his thoughts of curriculum and book requirements.


	10. Chapter 9 The Rings

Again, thank you for reading.

I do not own Potterverse but I do thank JKR from providing us with a wonderful world to write in.

Thank you ZephyrDragon, beta of mine!

Enjoy!

CHAPTER 9 – The ring

A week later, Diagon Alley was relatively deserted as the letters from Hogwarts hadn't been sent yet. Harry knew this was the calm before the storm as the letters would be sent the following Friday and would transform the Alley into a hive of activity. Since Harry had not received an owl from Hogwarts, he assumed his choice of books had been approved.

Ron was on the second floor of the Weasley Wizards Wheezes when Harry found him. His best friend was talking excitingly about a new magical object George and he had created earlier in the week, and Harry didn't have a chance to place a word until they stepped into the workroom. While Harry was happy his friend enjoyed his work so much, he wished the other wizard would see he desperately wanted to talk to him.

"Ron!" Harry finally interrupted, rather forcefully.

Ron looked at Harry, surprised by the sudden interruption. Harry was looking everywhere but at his friend, as if he had something to hide.

"What's wrong, mate?" asked Ron after a few seconds of uncomfortable silence.

"I wanted – I wanted to tell you…" began Harry, but stopped, not sure how to continue.

"Out with it!" said Ron.

"I-want-to-ask-Ginny-to-make-the-Commitment," he blurted out.

Ron, his expression frozen in surprise, looked at him for a few seconds then walked to the work station in the corner of the room.

"George, come upstairs! Now!" he called into a funnel-shaped piece of metal attached to the wall. He let himself heavily fall in a chair as if the news was too much of a surprise for him to handle standing up.

Harry thought this could not be good. He knew Ginny's brothers were excessively protective of their young sister, but he had secretly hoped they would trust him enough to know he didn't need 'the big brother talk'. But Ron, who was visibly shocked, had just called George. The last thing he had expected was to receive the talk on the day he announced his intent to ask Ginny to Commit. Now, he wondered what they would do to him and how he could get out of it without taking out his wand.

"He's going to ask her," said Ron dejectedly when George finally arrived.

"When?" asked George curiously.

"Her birthday," answered Harry, bracing himself.

"Pay up! Little brother!" said George with a huge grin on his face. "Ten galleons!" he added, presenting a hand to Ron.

"You don't need them! You're filthy rich, anyway," said Ron, sounding like a sore loser.

"Ah! But I'm not asking you because I need it, little brother. It's all for the pleasure of winning."

"You – you bet on when I would ask Ginny to Commit?" asked Harry, surprised.

He wondered if he should be angry or amused his friends had actually bet on him and Ginny.

"Of course we did," answered George, pocketing his winnings.

"I thought you would ask her at Christmas, mate" said Ron, sounding like Harry had let him down.

"Since I'm going to be at Hogwarts for the better part of a year, I didn't want her to think I wasn't coming back," said Harry defensively. "I would really like you to help me pick a ring for her," he added, looking at Ron.

George had walked to a cupboard and taken out his wand. He was whispering words under his breath and blue sparks were coming out of the tip of his wand. After a few moments, the cupboard opened.

"Mate," said George, turning to Harry and grinning broadly, "I think it's time for you to see our most secret creation."

Harry was annoyed. His best friend was acting like he was disappointed, and his brother wanted to show Harry magical inventions when all he wanted was to shop for the perfect ring. To make matters worse, upon hearing George, Ron looked up and grinned also.

"This is our brand new line: Commitment, Engagement and Wedding rings!" said George.

Genuinely intrigued this time, Harry walked to the counter where George was just opening the small chest he had removed from the cupboard.

"They would be prettier if they were made by Goblins but we figured they just don't know anything about love," said Ron, shrugging.

Harry did not care who had made the rings. He thought they were magnificent in their simplicity. They were made of white or yellow gold, and Harry could discern delicate runes and drawings engraved on them. There were only two pairs on the display cushion, each with a different hue. Harry reached forward to pick a ring but George grabbed his hand to stop him.

"Ah, no, mate! We can't touch them!" he said. "You see, these are very magical - probably the most magical artefacts we've ever created. We even got Hermione to help us with them."

"What do they do?" asked Harry.

Again, he eyed the set of golden rings which had a particular Gryffindor-reddish hue to them.

"They let you know how the other person is feeling," said Ron, showing his little finger to Harry.

Harry noticed for the first time that Ron and George each had one of the rings on their own fingers; Ron on his little finger, and George on his Commitment finger.

"And they work?" asked Harry intrigued.

"Yeah!" said Ron with a grin. "Right now, Hermione is – interested in something, like when she reads a book," he said, concentrating a little.

"That's one set," said George pointing at Ron's finger. "Angelina and I have another pair and…"

"Mum and Dad also have one. Dad says they work so well that mum can tell when he's working on Muggle artefacts. She said dad has a peculiar feel about him when he does," explained Ron.

"How did you make them?" asked Harry.

"To begin with, we modified the magic used in a golden snitch so the first person who touches the ring will be the person the ring will convey feelings from," started Ron. "That's why we can't touch them - it would ruin them."

"Then we cast charms to amplify the feelings," added George.

"And finally," continued Ron, "we put other charms to make the rings resistant to tampering and nullification spells."

"Of course, all of those other spells are now part of our trade secret," added George with a grin.

"Brilliant!" said Harry with a smile.

"And these," began George, grabbing a pair of tongs, removing the two golden-red rings, and placing them into two small ring boxes, "are for you and Ginny."

"How do I know they'll fit us?" asked Harry, taking the offered boxes.

"We put a sizing spell on them," answered George. "They'll fit whichever finger you put them on."

"Only don't remove them," added Ron. "I did that once and almost gave Hermione a heart attack."

"There's a binding spell between the rings, you see," said George. "If one removes his, the other one will know."

"Hermione said her ring had gone cold and it felt like I had died," explained Ron. "She said it was pretty horrible."

"How much do I owe you for these?" asked Harry, waving the boxes.

"Nothing, mate," answered George dismissively. "It's all covered by your initial cash advancement… Besides, it's for our little sister."

Harry was about to protest when George stopped him with a raised hand.

"We insist!" he added. "Besides, if we were to take your money, we would have to give you 'the talk'."

Harry failed to see the link but, happy he wouldn't have to hear big-brother-talk, kept his mouth shut.

"We just want you to let us know how it works for you. And, of course, when we're ready to market these little marvels, it won't hurt to let it drop that the famous Harry Potter's Commitment ring is one of ours," added George with a grin.

"For once, my name will be used with my consent!" said Harry, smiling. "So, let me make sure I've got this straight," he said. "I should be the first to touch Ginny's ring and she should be the first to touch mine."

"Exactly," answered George.

"Brilliant! Really!" said Harry, looking admiringly at the two boxes in his hand.

Ginny's birthday, which was in just over two weeks, seemed very far away now. Even if he thought this would make the most memorable birthday present ever, he wanted to give her the ring right away. All afternoon, he debated with himself whether to wait or not. When he arrived home, he still hadn't made up his mind and he could constantly feel the two little boxes in his pocket.

Upon his arrival at Grimmauld Place, he found an owl waiting for him in the kitchen and was grateful for the distraction. The owl had a little package with the Hogwarts seal attached to its leg. Harry took the package, feed the owl some treats and went to his study to open it.

Dear Professor Potter,

Harry blinked at the title.

Professor.

He had never imagined that one day somebody would call him 'Professor'.

As you know, each year a member of staff visits the parents of each first year Muggle-born child to explain they possess magical talent, and to personally offer the child an invitation to attend Hogwarts. I would consider it a personal favour if you would accept to meet with Connor Avery McKeithan of 24 Wimbolt Street, London, on Saturday 31st of July of this year. Mr McKeithan turned eleven on 20th of June and now qualifies for entry at Hogwarts.

We have included, in this package, an invitation letter along with book, equipment, and uniform requirements for your charge. As he is eligible for financial support, we have provided you with a note to withdraw funds from the Hogwarts account at Gringotts. Please accompany Mr and Mrs McKeithan and their son to Diagon Alley to acquire the needed supplies, and to Platform nine and three-quarters on the morning of September 1.

Thank you for your assistance with this matter.

Headmistress Minerva McGonagall

At the bottom of the letter was a handwritten note.

P.S. Harry, I know you haven't done this before but you will do fine. Just speak from your heart.

The 31st was the day of his birthday!

Harry remembered his own experience when Hagrid had come to meet him on his birthday, all those years ago. He had been ecstatic to find out why all the inexplicable things happened around him. He also had been relieved to finally get away from Privet Drive, which had not been a happy place for him. And he had got Hedwig. It had all been such a wonderful birthday present.

He also remembered Hermione telling him about her experience. Her parents had readily accepted she was a witch and encouraged her in the pursuit of her new life. Harry wondered if it would be as easy with the McKeithan family.

Then he remembered Dumbledore's first encounter with Tom Riddle, and suddenly felt apprehensive. What if this child was another dark lord in the making? But he knew he shouldn't be thinking that way since very few wizards actually turned truly dark.

He was still reflecting on the McKeithans and Hogwarts when Ginny returned from Quidditch practice late that afternoon.

"Not reading?" she asked, sitting in a chair next to his desk.

Harry gave her the letter without responding.

"Oh!" she said after reading it. "We'd better go to Diagon Alley tomorrow to dress you up for the occasion."

"Wh – what?" he asked surprised.

"Harry, you're not going wearing jeans and a t-shirt," she said pragmatically. "That's all well and good for Auror duties, but it doesn't make you look like a very credible teacher. Besides, you'll need something smarter to wear when you're at Hogwarts."

As usual, what Ginny said made perfect sense. Since leaving school, he had had no need for anything more fancy than jeans and shirts, but Hogwarts probably wouldn't tolerate its teachers being so unkempt. And if he was to go to the McKeithans in jeans, he was pretty sure they'd never believe he was a teacher - he looked young enough as it was.

Ginny stood up and kissed him.

"I'll go shower before dinner," she said.

"Ginny?" he asked. "When will you be moving the rest of your things from the Burrow?" he blurted out.

Ginny looked at him and smiled mysteriously.

"In time, Harry Potter," she answered. "In time."


	11. Chapter 10 The MuggleBorn Student

A/N: Again, thanks to my wonderful beta, ZephyrDragon.

I do not own the Potterverse however I do own Connor McKeithan, who you will soon meet. For those of you who play Potters World, you may recognise the name as I am using it for my PC. I have debated changing Connor's name but I am too fond of it to do so. The Connor McKeithan from this story is very different from the one in Potters World and I have also written his story... if you are interested to beta for that one, send me a message.

Enjoy!

CHAPTER 10 – The Muggle-born student

The next afternoon, Madam Malkin made the final adjustments to Harry's new work uniform which consisted of black trousers and jumpers, a black jacket, white shirts, and ties. While he doubted he would go back to wearing robes again, he also bought some, just in case.

Harry had longingly looked at the ties in the colour of Gryffindor but Ginny had firmly grabbed his chin, turned his face towards her and said: "No! Remember, Harry, you have to be impartial! You don't want to create the impression a House is better than another one, or you favour one over the others." Of course, she had been right. Following her direction, he had picked a set of ties with blue, green, yellow and red strips, which represented Hogwarts colours very well.

"You look very handsome," Ginny told him the following Saturday morning while she was straightening his tie. "If I wasn't already your girlfriend, I would definitely try to be," she added with an appreciative smile.

Her comment made Harry forget she hadn't wished him Happy Birthday yet, and he grinned at her compliment. He was disappointed to have to miss Ginny's Quidditch game against Puddlemere United but she had reminded him that helping Connor was a lot more important.

"Besides," she had added. "It's not like you won't be able to come and watch me another time."

A few minutes later, Harry called a taxi and set off for Wimbolt Street which was in a very poor part of town. Most of the houses were rundown and in serious need of repair.

Harry arrived at 24 Wimbolt Street at half past nine and knocked on the battered white door. A woman of about thirty, wearing an old-fashion pink flowery dress, opened it. Her hair was tied into a bun and she looked like she had been cleaning.

"Good morning," said Harry with his most charming smile. "Are you Mrs McKeithan?" he asked.

The woman nodded.

"My name is Harry Potter. I am a Professor at Hogwarts, a school for special children. I was wondering if I could have a word with you and your husband about your son, Connor."

Mrs McKeithan frowned, wondering if she should take him seriously.

"Aren't you a little young to teach?" she asked.

"Yes, I am," answered Harry truthfully. "But I'm very good at what I do, and Hogwarts needed me."

Mrs McKeithan hesitated for a long moment, looking at him searchingly. She seemed to be debating whether or not she should believe him of if he was just a prankster. Harry just looked back at her, relax and patient, waiting for her decision.

"Come in," she said slowly, as if Harry had passed a test but only barely.

She preceded him to a living room where all the furniture was covered with white sheets. A man who looked in his forties was sitting there, trying to fix an old radio by feeling each of the pieces carefully. He looked up and smiled.

"Mary," he said. "Who is with you?"

The man had an artificial leg and his eyes were cloudy as if from cataracts. It was obvious he couldn't see very well, if at all.

"This is Harry Potter," she answered. "Says he's from a school for special children, and he wants to talk to us about Connor."

"Hi!" said the man offering his hand, which Harry shook. "I'm Paul McKeithan, Connor's father. Please take a seat."

Harry sat on the sofa and Mrs McKeithan sat next to Mr McKeithan, looking fondly at the older man. They obviously had a hard life but seemed very happy together.

"You know, we've never had anybody come to talk to us about a school for Connor before..." began Mr McKeithan intrigued. "What school are you here to talk to us about?"

"Hogwarts, sir," answered Harry. "It's a school for children with special abilities - special gifts."

"What do you mean?" asked Mrs McKeithan suspiciously.

"Have you ever notice strange things happening around Connor, things that should not be possible?" asked Harry.

They both looked at one another, and Harry knew they understood what he was talking about. By their expressions, he also suspected that whatever had happened must have been quite serious.

"Our school invites children with those special abilities. We teach them how to control those abilities and use them in an orderly way," he continued.

"But – but these _abilities_ of Connor's," began Mrs McKeithan quietly, "they _are_ very strange."

"Yes, they can be," said Harry.

"But – but why does he have them?" she asked, as if afraid but fascinated at the same time.

"He was born with them," answered Harry. "I don't know the fine details of how they are inherited, but I have a friend who could talk to you about it, if you want."

"What does he have, then?" asked Mr McKeithan sadly, afraid Harry would diagnose his son with a disease. "The kids in the street and at school won't talk to him or go anywhere near him because they're afraid of what he sees and what he can do."

Harry recognised the pain of a man for his son who was different from the others, and he could see the same pain in Mrs McKeithan's eyes. These parents obviously loved their son very much and only wanted the best for him.

"He's a wizard, sir," answered Harry gently.

"A wizard?" asked Mrs McKeithan incredulously.

"There is no such thing!" dismissed Mr McKeithan at the same time.

Suppressing his instinctive urge to protest, Harry gave them a few moments to gather their thoughts. He had, after all, just told them that the world they lived in had a very well kept secret, a secret their son was a part of. And the McKeithans reaction was nowhere as nasty as the Dursleys' had been when he had received the visit from Hagrid all these years ago, and as opposed to the McKeithans, the Dursleys had known all along.

"Are you – are you a wizard?" asked Mrs McKeithan, finally.

"Yes, I am," answered Harry with a reassuring smile.

"And there are schools for children like Connor?" she asked.

"Yes," answered Harry, surprised Mrs McKeithan was actually ready to believe him so quickly.

"Wait a minute!" said Mr McKeithan, raising his hand to stop any conversation. "How do we know you are telling the truth?"

Harry pulled out his wand and pointed it at the radio.

"_Reparo!_" he said.

The radio reassembled itself. Mrs McKeithan stared at it with eyes opened wide.

"Go on," encouraged Harry with a grin. "Try it."

Mrs McKeithan plugged it in and turned it on. It played one of the local London music stations.

"Wow!" said Mrs McKeithan. "Paul's been trying to fix this thing for over a week."

"So, this school," said Mr McKeithan, now willing to consider what Harry had to say. "What can you tell us about it?"

Harry told them everything he could about Hogwarts, and also about how happy he had been while studying there. When he finished, Mrs McKeithan looked down at the worn carpet sadly.

"I really wish Connor could go; I think he would be happy there," she began. "But I don't think we could ever afford it," she said, looking at the fading walls.

"That's not a problem," said Harry with a reassuring smile. "Hogwarts has no boarding fees as it receives contributions and donations from the wizarding community. In addition, there is a fund set aside to assist students with uniform, equipment and books."

"What do you think?" asked Mrs McKeithan, turning to Mr McKeithan.

"Mr Potter, will Connor have a chance at a better life than us?" he asked, looking at Harry with his blind eyes. "What type of future does he have?"

"Most wizards work in the wizarding community. Very few of us work among Muggles, or non magical people. I can tell you that I know wizards who are not very rich," he added, thinking about the Weasleys. "But I don't know a lot of wizards who go hungry. Don't get me wrong, there are certainly some, but if you try, you have a chance at a future," said Harry. "Your success does not depend on where you come from. It _is_ possible to get a better life."

"Well, Mary," said Mr McKeithan to his wife, "if Connor wants to go, we should let him."

Mr McKeithan stood up slowly.

"Come, young man," he told Harry, putting a hand on his wife shoulder. "We'll introduce you to our son."

Slowly, Mr McKeithan made his way up the stairs. They walked along a hallway and stopped at a hole which seemed to have been recently punched through the wall.

"There used to be a door here," explained Mrs McKeithan with an apologetic shrug. "But we woke up two days ago to find a wall. We had to cut a hole to get Connor out."

Harry was impressed. This was some serious transfiguration for an eleven year old boy.

"I'll fix it before I go," Harry told them.

He followed the McKeithans into the room and saw a young boy sitting on the bed, reading a book. He was very pale, as if he never went outside. He was also small for his age, and very skinny, as if he never got enough food.

"Son, there's a visitor for you," said Mr McKeithan with a smile.

When he saw Harry, the young boy smiled in pure happiness.

"Hi!" said Harry, with a shy smile. "My name is Harry Potter..."

"You're real!" said Connor, standing up. "You're really real!"

"Yes," answered Harry, puzzled by the question.

"Does that mean the castle across the lake is also real? And the tables with all the food? And the giant? And the dwarf? And the lady with the pointed hat?" Connor asked rapidly.

Harry was burning to know how Connor knew so much, but felt it was not quite the time to ask. After all, he had just announced to the McKeithans that there was a wizarding world. If he began asking questions, he was pretty sure they would see something was amiss, and it might alarm them. They wanted the best for their son, and knowing Connor was strange even in a strange world might not be something they would support. But Harry couldn't help wondering if he had just found a Seer, and a very powerful one at that.

"Yes, Connor," answered Harry. "They're real."

"I knew it!"

He looked over at his parents.

"Mum, Dad, I really want to go. Please?"

"Yes, Connor," answered Mr McKeithan, happy to hear the joy in his son's voice. "You may go."

"Here," said Harry, taking a letter from the inside pocket of his jacket. "This is your official invitation."

Connor opened the envelope and read the letter out loud.

Dear Mr McKeithan,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry…

Connor looked at Harry surprised.

"So what I saw is a school? And am I – am I a wizard?" he asked.

"Yes, Connor, it's a school and, yes, you are a wizard."

"Are you a wizard too?"

"Yes, I am."

"Cool!" he said as if it was the most natural thing in the world and went back to his letter.

Please find enclosed a list of all the necessary books and equipment required for the school year. Should you wish to attend Hogwarts, a member of our faculty will assist you with the necessary purchases, and with the boarding of the school train which departs from Platform 9 ¾ of King's Cross Station at 11am on September 1st.

We hope to see you at Hogwarts this year.

Minerva McGonagall, Headmistress

"Platform nine and three quarters?" he said, looking at Harry intrigued.

"Yes, there is such a thing," confirmed Harry with a chuckle, remembering his own reaction.

Connor pulled out the list of books and equipment, and read it silently.

"A cat? I can bring Milord?" he asked hopeful.

Upon hearing its name, a big fluffy ginger cat with white nose and paws ran into the room and jumped on Connor's bed. Harry immediately recognized it as a half-kneazle.

"Yes, you can bring Milord," answered Harry with a smile, knowing without a doubt that the half-kneazle could only be Connor's.

"And what about Milady?" continued Connor sadly. "The letter says only one…"

Another fluffy cat, grey and white this time, ran into the bedroom in pursuit of the first one. Harry recognized her as a half-kneazle, too.

"We'll see what we can do about bringing Milady, too," said Harry, as normally as possible.

There was definitely something different about this young boy. Not only could he see the future and perform some extraordinary transfiguration, he already had two familiars.

"Mum, can we go shopping today?" asked Connor excited.

Mr and Mrs McKeithan looked at one another, not wanting to disappoint their son.

"Mr, Mrs McKeithan, I've been assigned to assist you with the shopping since these things aren't found in usual shops. I'm available to go with you anytime you wish to. If you can't go, I can take Connor sometime this week."

"Well, Mary, as I can barely walk and see, why don't you three go today?" suggested Mr McKeithan. "That would give you a nice break and make Connor happy."

"But the cleaning?" protested Mrs McKeithan.

"You work six days a week, you deserve a break," said Mr McKeithan gently.

"Maybe I can assist you there," offered Harry.

Mrs McKeithan frowned.

"Well, not exactly me," said Harry. "My servants."

"You're doing enough for us as it is, young man," said Mr McKeithan.

"It's nothing, really," reassured Harry.

Mr McKeithan turned to his son and wife.

"You go get ready now. Let's not keep Professor Potter waiting."

"I'll go change," said Mrs McKeithan and left the room.

"I'll get my shoes" said Connor, walking to his closet.

Harry assisted Mr McKeithan down the stairs.

"How do you plan on getting there?" asked Mr McKeithan as they came down the stairs.

"We'll take a taxi," answered Harry.

"So let me call you one," offered Mr McKeithan when they got to the living room.

"Thank you," said Harry. "I'll call Kreacher and Malda for you, and fix Connor's bedroom door."

Harry ran back up the stairs and began to work on Connor's bedroom door.

"Wow!" said Connor when he saw what Harry was doing. "Will I be able to do _that_ one day?"

"Oh yes!" answered Harry with a chuckle. "I would not be surprised if you became one of the best transfiguration students at Hogwarts."

Once he was done, Harry went to the kitchen and called his house-elves.

"Kreacher, Malda, I need your help. I want you both to clean this house as much as you can until dinner, and repair what you can. Then I want you to prepare a good dinner for three using ingredients from my house.

"There's a Muggle man in the sitting room. His name is Mr McKeithan. He doesn't see very well," added Harry when he saw Malda's worried face. "I would like you to prepare lunch for him at noon. I'll let him know you're here.

"And don't forget; get all the food and the cleaning supplies from my house. The McKeithans aren't very well off.

"Malda, you'd better get your baby too; you may be here most of the day. And please don't be seen by anybody except Mr McKeithan.

"Come on, let me introduce you."

Harry led the way into the living room, followed by the house-elves. Mr McKeithan looked up from another small appliance he was tinkering with.

"Mr McKeithan, this is Kreacher and Malda and they will stay here with you while we're gone," said Harry. "They're not quite like you and I. They are rather small but very efficient and very nice. If you need anything, just ask Malda here…"

"Hi," said Malda shyly.

"… and she will help you."

"You didn't have to do this, you know," said Mr McKeithan.

"I know, but I think you all deserve a break."

"Can I just ask," began Mr McKeithan hesitantly. "How did they get here so fast?"

"We have ways of travelling quickly," answered Harry, looking at the house-elves heading for the kitchen. "Magic does have its benefits."

"Thank you for all you've done for us, son," said Mr McKeithan. "God bless you."

A few moments later, Mrs McKeithan and Connor joined them in the living room. They were both wearing worn but well maintained clothes.

"Love, will you be okay?" asked Mrs McKeithan to her husband worried.

"Yes, Mary. Don't worry," he answered with a smile. "Now go and enjoy yourself."

Harry held the front door open for them and followed them into the awaiting taxi.

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Less than an hour later, they were in Diagon Alley, and Harry was directing them towards Gringotts. As it turned out, Mrs McKeithan was as enchanted by the wizarding world as her son, and both mother and son were looking around, pointing out wonders to each other. Harry was smiling at their excitement, remembering how he had felt when he'd seen Diagon Alley for the first time, when he spotted Hermione walking towards him, holding a little girl by the hand and followed by two fearful-looking adults.

"Hermione," he said. "You were called to the task, too?"

"Yes… You're here with a student too?" asked Hermione, looking around for Harry's charge.

"Yes. Connor?" called Harry to the boy who was looking in Madam Malkin's window with his mother. "Would you come here for a moment? There's somebody I want you to meet."

Connor ran to Harry, followed by his mother.

"Connor, I would like you to meet Professor Granger. Professor, this is Connor McKeithan."

"Very nice to meet you, Connor," said Hermione, shaking his hand. "And this is Guinevere Boxley. Guinevere, I would like you to meet Professor Potter."

"Hi!" said Harry, shaking the little girl's hand.

"Professor?" asked Connor, pulling on Harry's shirt. "She was in my dream, too," he said, gesturing to Hermione. "She was sitting next to you."

"Yes, Connor, she most probably was."

"Dream?" asked Hermione, intrigued.

"Yes," he answered. "Seer."

Hermione, who knew her history of magic like no other, knew Seers were very rare. She looked at Connor in amazement while Connor looked around intrigued and then up at Harry again.

"Professor Potter, why is everybody looking and pointing at us?" he asked, worried.

People had begun to take notice of Harry and Hermione, and now that Connor was standing next to them, he had noticed the attention, too.

"That's because Harry is very popular in the wizarding world," answered Hermione with a smile. "He's a hero of sort."

"A hero?" asked Connor, fascinated.

"Yes," answered Hermione. "A bit like Superman, but with no super power."

"Really?"

"Yes, you'll learn all about it in due time," said Hermione. "We were going to Gringotts," she said, turning to Harry. "Want to join us?"

"Yes, sure," he answered.

Hermione and Harry made their way towards the bank with their pupils, followed by the parents.

"Isn't this place completely wonderful?" Mrs McKeithan asked to Mr and Mrs Boxley. "I'm so glad Connor will be part of such a wonderful world. I feel like a child all over again, witnessing all these wonders."

Mr and Mrs Boxley did not answer and, from the corner of his eyes, Harry saw them look at Mrs McKeithan strangely.

"Tough lot?" whispered Harry to Hermione.

"You could say that," she answered with a sigh. "I'll tell you tomorrow... You're coming to the Burrow, aren't you?"

"Yes," answered Harry. "I wouldn't miss our weekly Quidditch game for all the gold and treasures in Gringotts."

"No, I don't think you would," said Hermione amused, as they arrived at the front step of the bank.

Mr and Mrs Boxley eyed the crooked columns of the huge white building wearily. Mrs McKeithan seemed to notice as she turned to Harry and said: "We'll stay out here. There's so much to see!"

Hermione smiled at her gratefully, and walked into Gringotts followed by Harry and the children.

"She's charming," she said to Harry once they were inside.

"Yes, very," answered Harry with a smile. "I think we'll have to split here."

"Yes," answered Hermione. "We could meet again at the Unicorn for lunch, let's say at noon?"

"Brilliant!" he answered cheerfully. "We'll see you then."

Harry watched Hermione leave realizing that, like Ginny, she hadn't wished him a happy birthday. He wondered why two of the most important people in his life would forget about it. Shrugging at his thoughts, he took Connor's hand and walked into the massive hall. He stopped at a counter from which a Goblin peered down at him.

"Mr Potter," he said. "What will it be today?"

This reception was very different from the one he had received the previously year when he had wanted to withdraw some money from his account before leaving for auror training. Following the war, the Goblins had demanded that the Ministry hand over Harry for theft. It had taken all the skills of the Ministry Liaisons to the Goblins, with the help of Professor Flitwick, to get Harry out of his bind. The Liaisons had argued that by breaking into Gringotts, Harry had in fact liberated them from the control of the Death Eaters they so despised. If Harry had not been successful in stealing the Hufflepuff cup, Gringotts would still be subject to Death Eaters domination or worse, completely taken over.

Harry and the Liaisons had expected the ownership of Gryffindor's sword to be the stickiest issue, but the goblins never brought it up. They wondered if Griphook had ever mentioned having it, and if the goblins knew it was now back at Hogwarts. Harry had asked Hermione if she could research the issue and find an explanation to this surprising turn of events.

Hermione's extensive research of Goblin lore and traditions had turned out an invaluable piece of information: Griphook was not the maker of the sword, nor was he a direct descendant, therefore he had no real claim to it according to Goblin law. Upon the sword's return into Goblin hands, it should have been handed over to the Goblin community to be returned to a descendent of the maker or stored in the communal vault. Hermione suspected that Griphook hadn't done so, consequently exposing himself to accusations of thievery if he admitted to having had it. Hermione suspected that if the sword had been in the Goblins' communal vault, Harry being accused of thievery would have been the least of the Ministry's problems. Effectively, the Ministry would have had to explain how the sword was removed from the vault and it may have very well resulted in war between human and wizards. Following the discovery of this information, they all agreed to never discuss the incident again.

However, the real surprise was not the Goblins' ignorance of the sword, but their mention of Harry's heritage. Neither the Liaisons nor Harry were aware he had inherited not only 12 Grimmauld Place and its contents from Sirius Black, but also the entire Black family vault which contained a sizeable amount of gold and other treasures such as jewellery. This vault, combined with his own, contained enough to make Harry comfortable for the rest of his life and then some.

When he had had a break from auror training, Harry had visited the vaults and had been astonished at his fortune. He had invested some of it in the shop to allow Ron and George to open a branch in Hogsmeade. He had also donated some galleons to Hogwarts, and some to the Ministry's special funds to assist with the reconstruction. He had combined the remaining of his fortune into one bigger vault and had decided to keep most of it for his children, if he ever got any.

With a sigh of relief at the Goblin's reception, Harry retrieved the Hogwarts letter from his pocket and presented it to him.

"Ah, yes!" he said. "One moment, please."

The Goblin disappeared behind the counter and reappeared a moment later with a pouch of coins.

"We had those ready at the request of the school," he said, giving it to Harry. "Sign here, please," he asked, showing Harry a piece of parchment.

Harry read through to check everything was in order before signing it. While Harry did not doubt the Goblins intention, he wanted to make sure he was signing exactly what he was supposed to sign.

"Professor?" asked Connor as they walked towards the exit. "What _was_ he?"

"A Goblin," answered Harry, remembering he had asked Hagrid the very same question the first time he had come to Gringotts. "They're not particularly friendly, but they are very clever and very good with money. Their bank is also very secure - in recorded history, they only had two break-ins! However, Goblins learn from their mistakes and I seriously doubt anyone will ever be able to break in again."

"Wow!" breathed Connor.

As they were done before Hermione, they left Mr and Mrs Boxley behind.

"That poor little girl," said Mrs McKeithan sadly. "Her parents don't seem to care about her at all. I think they're afraid of her. She's been sent away to boarding schools since she was five... Goes to show that money isn't everything!"

"They don't like that she's like me?" asked Connor sadly.

"No, sweetheart, they don't accept it at all. They both think this place isn't real," she answered with a sad sigh. "Unbelievable! They don't believe what they see with their own eyes!"

Mrs McKeithan looked down at Connor fondly. He ran ahead to a shop and looked through the window.

"Professor," she asked seriously, turning to Harry. "Do you think he'll be able to make friends at this school of yours?"

"Yes, I do," answered Harry. "He'll fit right in and be with people just like him. When I went to Hogwarts, I was finally able to make friends, which I never had in the Muggle world."

"Thank you," answered Mrs McKeithan with a smile. "I'll miss him a lot. We don't have a lot, but we do love him... But if he's happy, that's all I can ask and hope for."

"Where do you want to begin?" Harry asked Connor when they reached him.

Connor took out his list.

"Uniform," started Connor. "I need three sets of plain work robes, one pair of protective gloves, dragon hide or similar... Professor, do dragons exist?" asked Connor, looking up at Harry.

"Oh, yes! They do!" answered Harry.

"Cool! Will I get to see one?"

"Maybe," answered Harry with a chuckle.

Connor grinned at him before returning to his list.

"Then I need one winter cloak with black or silver fastening," continued Connor. "Then there's a list of books..."

"Well, let's begin with the clothes," said Harry.

The funds provided by Hogwarts were not enough for new robes so Harry took them to the shop where the Weasleys had got their robes. Connor was so small that Harry was afraid they might not find anything in his size, but Mrs McKeithan proved to be a very skilled and savvy shopper. They found what they were looking for in no time and all robes they picked were in very good condition.

"You've never had anything so fine!" said Mrs McKeithan to her son proudly.

They went to get the required books next and there too, Mrs McKeithan was able to locate books that looked only slightly used.

"Professor?" asked Connor, once they were outside the bookstore, waiting on Mrs McKeithan who was looking at some of the other books. "If we have money left after we get everything I need, will we be able to buy a dress for Mum? There was one in the shop earlier that she really liked."

Harry was touched by this little boy who, instead of spending all the money on himself, would rather spend it on his mum. It reminded him of when he spent all his money on the sweet trolley so he could share it with Ron.

"We'll see how much is left," answered Harry, putting a hand on Connor's shoulder. "Time to get lunch now. Maybe you should go get your mum."

As soon as Connor left, Harry took a handful of galleons from his pocket and added it to the Hogwarts pouch to supplement the funds, enough for both Connor and his mother to get something they liked.

"So, Mr Potter, tell me, how much did you add to that pouch?"

Harry turned around to see Professor McGonagall standing behind him. She was smiling and looked rather amused.

"I used to do the same myself when I was accompanying less fortunate students to get their supplies," she added before he could provide her with an answer. "Of course, I would not have expected any less of you."

Harry smiled at her.

"Professor, I was wondering if you would consider allowing Connor to bring two familiars to school with him," he asked.

"Two?" she asked surprised.

"Yes, two half-kneazles," answered Harry.

"Oh, dear! Do you realize, Mr Potter, how rare it is to have two half-kneazles, even for an accomplished wizard?" she said surprised. "And you're telling me this boy has two?"

Before Harry could formulate an answer, Connor joined them with his mother.

"Connor, I would like you to meet Professor McGonagall, Hogwarts Headmistress," introduced Harry.

"Good morning, Mr McKeithan," said Professor McGonagall, shaking his hand.

"You were in my dream, too!" exclaimed Connor. "You were wearing a pointed hat!"

"Connor, mind you manners, my love," said Mrs McKeithan, gently putting her hands on his shoulders.

"Yes, Connor, Professor McGonagall was most probably in your dream, too," said Harry.

"Nice to meet you, Headmistress," said Connor with a genuine smile.

Professor McGonagall smiled at Connor and, turned to Harry.

"Dreams?" she asked. "Visions?"

"I think so," answered Harry with a smile. "And already very powerful at transfiguration."

Professor McGonagall turned to Connor, regaining her regal composure.

"I heard, young man, that you have two cats," she said.

"Well," he said seriously and staring at the ground. "They are not mine, really... I think they just chose to be my friends because I was lonely. They just sort of decided to stay with us."

"Well, Mr McKeithan, you may bring them both to school," said Professor McGonagall. "If you did leave either one behind, I would not be surprised if it were to find its way to the school and show up on our doorsteps one morning. Might as well spare them both the trouble."

Connor looked up with a radiant smile.

"Thank you, Headmistress."

"Time for me to rejoin my own charge," said Professor McGonagall. "Seems like we have more Muggle born than usual this year," she added to Harry before walking away.

"What are Muggle born, Professor?" asked Connor.

"A witch or a wizard whose parents are not magical."

"Like me?" he asked.

"Yes, like you," answered Harry, ruffling his hair.

"Were your parents wizards?"

"Yes."

"So what was it like to grow up in the wizarding world?"

"I didn't grow up in the wizarding world," answered Harry, walking towards the Unicorn. "My parents died when I was a baby, and I was raised by my aunt and uncle. They're Muggles, you see?"

Connor stayed silent until they reached the restaurant. Hermione was already there, waiting for them.

"Professor Granger's parents are Muggles," said Harry as an afterthought.

"They were?" asked Connor hopeful.

"Yes. And she's a very, very powerful witch, probably the most powerful of my age, actually," added Harry.

Harry didn't know why he had felt compelled to say that, but when he saw the joy illuminating Connor's face, he asked: "Did you think Muggle born wizards were less powerful?"

"Well, sort of, Professor," answered Connor, shyly looking at the ground.

Harry knelt down to look at him in the eyes.

"Connor, listen to me very carefully," he said gently. "There are people in the wizarding world who do not like Muggle born. They think they are inferior and should not be allowed to do magic. But it's not true! You are born a wizard or you are not. What makes a wizard powerful is not where he comes from, but his own skills and knowledge. Professor Granger there," he said, pointing towards her with his head, "she was the best at all but one of the subjects we studied. And she's very, very intelligent and clever. So I want you to promise me one thing: if somebody ever tells you that you're not good, or if they use the word 'Mudblood', I want you to keep your head high and know in your heart that you're better than them for not judging people the way they do. Will you promise me that?" asked Harry.

After a few seconds of hesitation, Connor nodded.

"Good! Let's get some food now, shall we?"

After lunch, Harry directed the McKeithans towards Ollivander's.

"For this," said Harry to Connor, giving him 12 galleons, "you'd better go in by yourself."

"Why?" asked Connor, glancing nervously at his mum.

"You'll see," said Harry with an encouraging smile.

Connor walked into the shop. A few seconds later, Ollivander appeared at the front counter and waved to Harry through the window. After a short conversation with Connor, he left and reappeared a few moments later with a box. He offered a wand to Connor who waved it after being prompted. Boxes flew off the shelves on the right hand side of the shop.

"Oh my God!" exclaimed Mrs McKeithan, horrified, bringing her hands to her mouth.

"It's okay," reassured Harry with a wide grin. "It happens all the time."

"But – but who will clean all the mess?"

"Ollivander, with a little magic," answered Harry.

"Oh!" said Mrs McKeithan simply.

Connor's wand fitting took even longer than Harry's. Ollivander's shop was quite in shamble when then wand maker finally found the right wizard-wand match. Connor paid him and walked out the door, accompanied by the old man.

"Most unusual," said Ollivander to Harry. "Probably as unusual as you, Mr Potter. Oak, 12 ¼, unicorn hair. The combination is not in itself odd, however this is Angel Oak. It only grows in America. It was given to me by an American wand maker when she visited last year. This type of oak is said to be one of the oldest living trees in the southeast United States. I was only able to make a few wands with it as I had such a small amount.

"But even more unusual is the core. The unicorn who gave me this hair gave only one before dying of old age. So this wand will never have a brother.

"I think, Mr Potter, we can expect great wisdom from this young man, very great wisdom indeed."

They had just bought a cauldron when Connor spotted a window in which was displayed a broomstick. A few kids were standing there, staring at it and speaking with awed voices.

"What's that?" asked Connor, walking to the window.

"That's a broomstick," answered Harry.

He looked at the handle. _Skygazer 100_. 'A new one,' thought Harry.

"Professor, what's the lady in the picture doing? Is she flying the broomstick?"

Harry looked up and saw a picture of someone he knew quite well.

"Yes," answered Harry. "Brooms are actually a very nice way to travel."

"Wow!" said Connor.

He looked at the picture again.

"Professor, who is this lady? And what is she holding?"

"That's Ginny Weasley," answered Harry with a smile. "She's a Quidditch player and, in this picture, she's holding a Quaffle."

"What's Quidditch?" asked Connor curiously.

And Harry proceeded to explain the game to Connor.

"Is she any good?" asked Connor, pointing at Ginny's picture.

"Oh, yes!" answered Harry with a fond smile. "One of the best Chasers there is."

"Do you know her?" asked Connor, as curious as only an eleven year old could be.

"Of course I know her!" answered Harry proudly. "She's my girlfriend."

"Your girlfriend?" asked Connor amazed.

"And good thing you boys aren't saying anything bad about her, since _I am_ standing right behind you!"

Both Harry and Connor jumped, startled. They turned around and saw a grinning Ginny standing right behind them. Harry took her hand and kissed her lightly on the temple. Connor just stared at them open mouthed.

"The game was short," said Harry.  
"Yes. We caught the snitch forty minutes into it."

Ginny leaned down to be eye to eye with Connor.

"And you must be Connor," she said, offering him her hand. "I'm Ginny, Harry's girlfriend," she said with a mischievous grin.

"Yes, I'm Connor," said Connor, shaking her hand. "And this is my mum," he added, showing Mrs McKeithan who was walking towards them. "Mum! Mum!" he called to her. "This is Ginny, Professor Potter's girlfriend."

Harry and Ginny smiled broadly.

"Oh! Hi!" said Mrs McKeithan, shaking Ginny's hand with a warm smile. "I'm Mary," she added. "You have a fine young man here!"

Ginny looked at Harry who was blushing in a way that would have made a Weasley proud.

"I know," she said.

"Mum! Mum! Can we invite them for dinner tonight?"

Harry was about to refuse, but Mrs McKeithan said: "Please come. You've made us so happy today. It's the least we can do."

"Then it will be our pleasure," answered Harry graciously. "Let's get the rest of your supplies, Connor, and then we can stop by the Weasley's Wizard Wheezes," said Harry. "I know you'll love it there."

Harry, now with the help of Ginny, made sure Connor was equipped with everything he would need and weren't on the list such as parchment, quills, and ink. They also got some treats for his half-kneazles, and then bought the dress for Mrs McKeithan. With the rest of the galleons, they bought Connor a few Muggle clothes. It was past mid afternoon when they finally made their way to the Wheezes.

Harry had been right; Connor really liked the Wheezes. Their stop at the shop also gave Harry the occasion to slip out for a moment and notify Malda to make sure there was enough food for dinner as he and Ginny would be joining the McKeithans. When Harry came back, he found Connor in deep conversation with another young boy about certain gadgets on display.

"I think he already made a friend," said Mrs McKeithan, joining Harry. "He hasn't got any friends at home. He looks so happy here."

She looked as if she was trying very hard not to cry.

"Harry! Look who I found," said Ginny, joining them.

"Mr Weasley!" said Harry, shaking his hand warmly.

"Coming to the Burrow tomorrow?" asked Mr Weasley.

"Yes, sir!" answered Harry with a smile.

"But who do we have here?" asked Mr Weasley, looking at Mrs McKeithan intrigued.

"This is Mrs McKeithan, Mr Weasley. She's my Connor's mother," answered Harry. "Mrs McKeithan, this is Mr Weasley, Ginny's father."

"Are you a Muggle?" asked Mr Weasley, genuinely interested.

"Yes," answered Mrs McKeithan hesitantly, before quickly glancing at Harry.

"Merlin's beard!" he said. "Maybe you can tell me something: what is the use of the thing they call a dishwasher?"

It took Harry and Ginny every ounce of their willpower to keep from laughing, but Mrs McKeithan took Mr Weasley in stride and began discussing the fine points of Muggle technology with him.

"Harry! You're coming to the Burrow tomorrow, right?" asked Ron, stopping in front of Harry, his hands full of boxes.

"Yes! I'll be there," he answered.

"Good!" said Ron and walked away.

"Why is everybody asking me if I'm going to the Burrow tomorrow?" asked Harry, turning to Ginny.

"I don't know," she answered with a shrug. "Maybe they're trying to be polite."

Harry was about to say something in response but was cut short by Connor calling his name.

"Professor Potter! This is Gregory MacMillan! He will be going to Hogwarts, too!"

"Harry Potter!" said Gregory in visible awe at seeing Harry standing in front of him. "You know Harry Potter!" he added, turning to Connor, his eyes still wide in surprise.

"Yeah! He's been helping me with my shopping all day."

"MacMillan?" asked Harry to Gregory, ignoring the awe. "Are you related to Ernie?"

"He's – he's my brother, sir," answered Gregory.

"I didn't know Ernie had a little brother," said Ginny.

"Would you say 'hi' to him from me?" asked Harry.

"Y-yes, sir," answered Gregory.

"There you are," said Mrs McKeithan approaching. "Oh! Hi there!" she said when she saw Gregory.

"Mum, this is Gregory MacMillan. He'll be going to Hogwarts, too," presented Connor.

"Hi!" said Mrs McKeithan again with a charming smile. "Nice to meet you... Connor, sweetheart, we have to go soon so I have time to make dinner."

"Oh! Mum!" pleaded Connor. "Five more minutes?"

"Okay."

An hour later, a taxi dropped them in front of the McKeithan's house.

"Mrs McKeithan, before we go in, I just want to let you know that I asked my house-elves to come and do some cleaning for you," said Harry.

"Professor, you shouldn't have," she said, opening the door. "It wasn't..."

The rest of her words were lost as she looked around and could not believe what she was seeing. The house was not only spotless, but it positively shone. The elves had waxed and polished the old wooden floor to make it glean like new. They had also cleaned the walls and the carpet, which now looked ten years younger. The kitchen was so spotless, Mrs McKeithan didn't dare walk on the floor. Sitting on the counter were a few dishes prepared for diner.

"Master!" said Malda when she saw them. "We had to cook at the house," she said, looking at the floor, ashamed. "We didn't know how to use the stove," she added, pointing at the Muggle appliance.

"Malda, don't worry about it," said Harry gently. "You and Kreacher really did an amazing job.

"Oh! Wow!" said Connor, seeing Malda as he walked into the kitchen. "You're not a goblin but... what are you?"

"I'm a house-elf," answered Malda proudly. "Master Potter's house-elf."

"I'm Connor," he said, shaking her hand, which granted him a radiant smile and a blush from Malda. "Nice to meet you."

"Malda, is Mr McKeithan alright?" asked Harry.

"I'm in here," called Mr McKeithan from the living room.

They walked to the living room to find it as clean as the other rooms. Mr McKeithan was sitting in his chair with Malda's baby in his arms. The baby was smiling and laughing happily.

"Isn't he precious?" said Mr McKeithan, smiling too. "Mr Potter, you have the most wonderful servants in the world. Malda is a darling; witty and funny."

"Thank you, Mr McKeithan," said Harry. "And I agree with you; they are great beings."

Malda, who had come to the living room with them, beamed with pride.

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"You realize you've brought more joy into our son's life than anybody else in over three years, don't you?" asked Mrs McKeithan after dinner.

The elves had surpassed themselves for dinner. It was so good that Mr and Mrs McKeithan had savoured every bite they took while Connor had eaten as fast as he could, as if the food would disappear before he was done. Harry thought it would have been funny to see Connor eat that way if the boy had never known hunger.

After dinner, Harry had stayed in the kitchen with Mrs McKeithan to assist in putting the dishes away while the house elves had gone back home for a well deserved rest. Connor and Ginny were in the living room showing Mr McKeithan the day's purchases. From the kitchen, Connor could be heard telling his father all about the wonders he had seen during the day.  
"I really wish Paul could have seen all that you showed us," she added sadly.

"What happened to him?" asked Harry.

"The doctors aren't quite sure. It looks like cataracts but they don't think it is," she answered. "Paul was a repairman, you see. When he started losing his sight, he had to sell his little shop. We used the money to pay for the house and we're lucky we did so or we would be on the streets by now."

"I'm very sorry," said Harry sincerely.

He wondered what he could do for them. They were such nice people and they deserved so much more. Harry wondered why it was always the good ones who had it tough. The Dursleys surely didn't deserve all they had!

"Oh! Don't be!" said Mrs McKeithan, bringing him back to the conversation. "Now that we know Connor's future is going to be better, it's all that matters to us.

"I'll surely miss him... I hope he'll send us lots of letters."

"About that," began Harry. "There's something you should know. The wizarding world doesn't use normal post. Our letters get delivered by owls."

"Your world is a strange one, Mr Potter," said Mrs McKeithan, laughing. "So, what do I need to do to write to my son?"

"I will send you an owl to confirm Connor has arrived safely at school. It will wait on the ramp of your back porch for you to retrieve the letter from its leg. Just tell it when you want it to come back and it will. The only thing we ask is that you give it some water and some of these treats," added Harry, giving her a big bag of owl treats. "Just one or two each time and that should last you until Christmas."

"Thank you, Mr Potter. Thank you."

"It's almost time for us to go home. May I have a word with Connor before I go?"

"Certainly," answered Mrs McKeithan, preceding him to the living room.

A few minutes later, Harry and Connor were sitting on Connor's bed.

"I have to go now," said Harry. "But before I do, I wanted to talk to you. Connor, Hogwarts students are not allowed to do magic outside of school. So I want you to promise that you will not try anything."

"Okay," said Connor sadly, as he had been anxious to try out some things from his new books.

"Connor, it's very important," emphasised Harry. "When you're at school, there are teachers there who can help you if something goes wrong. If something happens while you are here, it may take a while before somebody can help you, just long enough for somebody to get really hurt. Do you understand?"

Connor nodded, looking at his folded hands on his lap.

"The Department of Magic always knows when kids do magic because of a magical trace on underage wizards. Doing magic outside of school is a serious offense and can get you expelled. We don't want that, now do we?"

Connor shook his head.

"I want you to leave your wand in its box. That way, you'll reduce the possibility of having an accident," added Harry with a gentle smile. "You can read your books if you want to, but again, don't try to do what's in them, okay?"

"Okay," answered Connor.

"Now that it's been said, there's something else you need to know. Sometimes, you may do magic without knowing it," said Harry. "That's what happened when your door disappeared."

"I did that?" asked Connor surprise. "For real? I – I was asleep and I had a dream where somebody was chasing me. I remember entering a room and wishing the door would disappear. When I woke up, my door was gone!"

"Well, if something like this happens again," said Harry with an amused smile, "don't panic, okay? I want you to write me a note and tell me about it. Besides, you can write to me for anything if you want to. Just attach the note to Milord or Milady and tell them to bring it to me."

"Milord? Milady? But how will they find you?" asked Connor puzzled.

As if they knew Harry and Connor were talking about them, both cats walked into the room and jumped on the bed.

"I think you've noticed how intelligent they are, haven't you? More so than any other cats you've seen, right?"

"Yes," answered Connor, petting the cats who were now purring loudly.

"That's because they're not just cats," explained Harry. "They're half-kneazles. They're magical creatures with magical powers."

"They are?" asked Connor, totally enchanted.

"Yes, they are. And one of their powers is to assist you any way they can. If you ask one of them to deliver a message to me, they will."

"Won't they get lost? Won't they get hurt? What if a dog chases them?"

"Oh, no!" answered Harry. "They are far too intelligent for any of that. And dogs don't stand a chance against them! Besides, I don't live very far from here.

"Now, I've got to go," added Harry standing up. "I'll come back in two weeks and check on you, okay?"

Connor nodded and Harry left. Ginny was waiting for him in the living room, and after some sincere goodbyes from Mr and Mrs McKeithan, and a promise to visit again soon, Harry and Ginny left.


	12. Chapter 11 The Surprise Party

A/N: Okay folks, I don't own Potterverse.

Also, if you consider cannon to be only the books, beware that in this chapter, I have refered to one thing from the movies. Let's face it folks, we are a rather visual society so it was just easier that way for me.

Again, thanks to my beta ZephyrDragon and to those of you who have added my story to their favourites and their story alert.

CHAPTER 11 – The Surprise Party

"Ginny? Ginny!" called Harry from the kitchen. "We were supposed to be at the Burrow ten minutes ago!"

Harry was annoyed and becoming increasingly grumpy. He had been ready to leave for over half an hour but Ginny didn't seem to have her act together that morning. First she thought her hair looked wrong, then that her clothes smelt bad, and finally it had seemed all her Quidditch gears had found their way out of her bag and ended up all over the house. Harry wondered what had gone into her since she usually didn't take much time to get ready when it was time to go play Quidditch at the Burrow.

Harry's mood was not improved by his friends forgetting his birthday the day before. He remembered the days when the Dursleys didn't acknowledge it and he had honestly thought he was past that now. He had to admit not receiving any well wishes had hurt more than he thought it would.

"I can't find my gloves," called Ginny from their bedroom. "I thought I left them in my drawer somewhere... _Accio gloves!_ Ah! I should have thought about looking _there_ ten minutes ago!" she said. "I've got them now."

She ran down the stairs and joined him in the kitchen with a radiant smile. As annoyed as he was, Harry couldn't stay angry with her for long. He found her simply breathtaking in her Quidditch uniform. Still smiling, she took Floo powder from the mantelpiece and disappeared into the fireplace ahead of him. He followed her a few seconds later and found her waiting in the Burrow's kitchen.

"We'll be late, quick!" she said, opening the back door for him.

He was about to tell her she was the one who had made them so late when he stepped through the door and heard: "SURPRISE!"

Harry froze and his jaw dropped.

In front of him was a tent similar to the one used for Bill and Fleur's wedding a couple of years earlier. Inside the tent were most of Harry's friends, including some Hogwarts teachers, co-workers from the Ministry, and fellow Quidditch players in uniform with their significant others and family. Ron and Hermione ran to him closely followed by Mr and Mrs Weasley, and, to Harry's surprise, the Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt. Behind him, Ginny was laughing happily.

"Happy birthday, Harry!" said Hermione, hugging him. "It was so hard not to wish you happy birthday yesterday."

"Yeah! I almost let it slip when I saw you at the shop," said Ron, clasping his hand and slapping him on the back.

"You didn't know, did you?" asked Mr Weasley, worried Harry might have found out somehow.

"No! No!" answered Harry, choked with emotion by what he was seeing. "You really didn't forget," he added.

"Oh! Harry, dear! Of course we didn't forget. You haven't had a proper celebration since the end of the war and we just couldn't pass this occasion up," said Mrs Weasley, hugging him. "You deserve it!"

"And, of course, some of us are very anxious to see you play Quidditch," said Kingsley, shaking his hand.

As if waiting for that signal, the guests began to walk towards the Quidditch pitch. This would be their biggest audience yet and by far. As they made their way, Ginny walked to him and linked her arm through his.

"Now you know why I procrastinated so much. I had to make sure everybody got here before us," she said with a grin.

"Yeah! For a moment there, I wondered what had gone into you," he said, grinning too.

She playfully punched his arm.

"Surprised?" she asked after a few seconds of silence.

"Completely," he answered. "I can't believe nobody let it slip," he added.

"Neither can I," she said. "It's been weeks in the making. I was sure somebody would say something. Happy?"

"Always when you're with me," he answered, smiling at her.

She smiled back and, once at the pitch, followed him into the changing room.

"Ginny, where's your broom?" asked Harry, noticing for the first time she didn't have it with her.

He couldn't believe that despite all his Auror training, he hadn't noticed something so obvious until now.

"I left it here," she answered.

Since he couldn't fly in London, Harry usually left his in the cupboard in the changing rooms.

"But didn't you play yesterday?"asked Harry, opening the cupboard.

He looked inside and frowned.

"Where's... Wh-what? Wow!" he said, picking up the broomstick which sat where he usually put his.

The handle read SkyGazer 100. He looked up at Ginny who was grinning widely. She, too, was holding a new SkyGazer 100.

"How... what... really?" he spurted out, not knowing where to begin.

"Happy birthday, Harry," she said, leaning forward and giving him a kiss. "Go try it. I'll tell you how later," she added at his unanswered questions.

He kissed her again, and grinning, walked out onto the field.

"_And Harry Potter just took to the air on his brand new SkyGazer 100, a gift from Ginny,_" commented Lee Jordan to the cheering crowd. "_I always thought Ginny had such great taste in gifts. It's a shame Harry snatched her from us."_

Harry was still flying around the field and getting a feel for his new broom when Ron called to him to begin the game. A few seconds after he took position, Ron threw the Quaffle.

"_And the game begins!_" announced Lee.

Harry had feared Viktor Krum would let him off easy for his birthday, but it was not the case. If anything, Krum seemed more determined than ever to catch the snitch first. They played long and hard, to a crowd that was cheering both sides equally. They played so hard that even Madam Pomfrey's skills were put to good use a few times.

Finally, after over four hours of playing, Harry saw the snitch. It was floating near the entrance to the changing rooms, about halfway down the field. Krum, who was at the other end of the field, had seen it too. This time, catching the golden ball would be a question of speed and skill.

Both Seekers raced towards the snitch amid the cries of the excited crowd, but it would not let itself get caught easily. It gave them a run under the stands which strangely reminded Harry of a similar chase he had had at Hogwarts against Draco Malfoy. And like Malfoy, Krum was not making it easy for him. More than once he tried to knock Harry off his broom.

The snitch suddenly changed direction and flew back onto the field amidst Chasers, Beaters and bludgers. Harry and Viktor had been neck and neck in pursuit for a few minutes when Harry willed his broom to go faster.

And it did!

Just enough, just for the few extra feet Harry needed to finally close his hand around the slippery little ball.

"_Harry Potter has caught the snitch!"_ announced Lee Jordan.

The crowd was on its feet, cheering wildly. Throughout the afternoon the crowd had swelled with latecomers, and Harry could see and hear Hagrid cheering next to Hermione.

"Harry! You were brilliant!" said Ginny, landing on the field next to him and kissing him playfully.

"This will be remembered for a long time to come," said Oliver Wood, clapping him on the shoulder.

"Harry, you need to consider the England World team," said Krum, shaking his hand. "I want to play against you in a real Quidditch game."

"I don't think I would have as much fun, Viktor," said Harry with a grin. "It wouldn't be like playing with friends."

Viktor returned his grin and they walked back to the changing rooms where they showered and changed into fresh clothes before joining the rest of the guests in the back garden. As they approached, Kingsley walked towards Harry.

"Harry, happy birthday again," he said, shaking his hand. "I wanted you to know it was nice to finally see you play. You _are_ quite good."

"Thank you, Minister," answered Harry. "Are you leaving, sir?"

"Unfortunately, I am. Duty calls."

"Sir, may I have a word before you go?"

"Sure, Harry. What can I do for you?"

Harry and Kingsley walked a few yards away from the waiting crowd.

"Sir, I know this is not a usual request," began Harry, gathering his thoughts. "I've been helping a first year Muggle born student and I met his parents. They are wonderful people but Mr McKeithan has an eye condition that prevents him from working and, as a result, they are terribly poor. Would it... do you think it would be possible for him to be seen by our Healers at St. Mungo's? The Muggle doctors can't figure out what's wrong with him and I thought maybe our Healers would be more successful. I'll pay if it's a question of money," added Harry.

"Harry, Harry, Harry," said Kingsley, smiling. "Again, thinking about others before you, and during your birthday party, no less... You really _are_ the most selfless person I know.

"Because you're the one asking, and only because it's you, I'll make arrangements. I'll send you an owl when it's done and I have a date for an appointment."

"Thank you, sir," said Harry with a relieved smile.

"And Harry, please do me a favour, will you?"

"Anything, Minister," said Harry.

"Next time, please ask something for yourself," said Kingsley, squeezing his shoulder warmly.

"I'll try, sir," answered Harry, smiling amused.

"Now, go back to your friends and enjoy the rest of your party."

As usual, the food was plentiful and excellent. Mrs Weasley was praised by everyone and blushed like only a Weasley could. Harry had just finished opening his gifts, and was talking with Hermione about class curriculum when a big white and grey owl landed on the back of his chair, and nibbled his ear like Hedwig used to do. Harry looked at it and petted it behind the ear, admiring its white feathers.

"Do you like her?" asked Ginny, arriving next to him.

"Yes!" answered Harry, looking at the bird lovingly.

"She's for you."

"For me? You got me an owl? As well as the broomstick?"

"Well, you wanted one, didn't you?"

Harry scratched the owl's head and neck, not trusting his voice.

"I thought about getting you a barn owl but when I saw you in Diagon Alley yesterday, I changed my mind. You only had eyes for the snowy owls, so I got you this one."

"She's beautiful, Ginny," he said. "I... I don't know what to say."

"Well, give her a name," suggested Ginny with a smile.

He hesitated a moment, wishing he could name her Hedwig. However, she wasn't Hedwig. As white as she was, she had a lot more grey on her wings than Hedwig had had. Also, her personality was probably completely different and Harry didn't want to think of his new owl as a replacement for his long lost familiar.

"Do you like Allegria?" asked Harry to the bird who was now perched on the table in front of him.

The owl hooted softly.

"Then Allegria it is," said Harry, petting her head again.

Harry gave the owl some food from his plate, which she took eagerly. A few moments later, she flew away and Harry turned to his girlfriend.

"Come with me," she said, taking his hand.

He followed her into the house where all was quiet. Still holding Harry's hand, she led him to her bedroom on the first landing; the one she would be sharing with Hermione that night.

"Ginny, I-I can't go in there," he said at the door, knowing that if he entered a bedroom with her at this moment, he doubted they would be able to walk out again before people began to wonder where they were.

Ginny looked at him with merriment in her eyes.

"Harry Potter! It's nice to know I have _that _effect on you, but I just want to give you another gift."

Harry did not know if he should be relieved or disappointed but before he could make up his mind, she pulled him into the room. On her bed was a framed life-size picture of the two of them, sitting at a table, talking and laughing. Both were wearing their Quidditch uniforms.

"When was this taken?" asked Harry fascinated by this wonderful picture where they looked so happy.

"A few weeks ago," answered Ginny. "Mum took it... I wanted you to have a picture of me... of us to put on your wall at Hogwarts."

Harry looked up at her, grinning.

"Do you like it?" she asked.

"Well, it's no replacement for you, but it'll have to do," he answered, kissing her.

"We better go back," said Ginny when the kissing started to become more intense. "I reckon Mum saw us leave and she might come looking."

As they walked back outside, Luna came to speak to Ginny, and Harry went to sit next to Hermione. Mr and Mrs Weasley had taken the wireless outside and some of the guests were dancing to the music. Hermione was watching the dancing guests, smiling.

"Where's Ron?" asked Harry.

"I think he went to discuss magical objects with his dad, George and Bill."

"So, you want to tell me about Guinevere?" asked Harry after a few seconds of silence.

"Those horrible people!" said Hermione, turning to look at him. "First of all, they didn't want to talk to me. When I introduced myself, Mrs Boxley said: 'Guinevere is already enrolled in...' I don't even know what the name of the school was, some expensive boarding school somewhere in Switzerland.

"She was about to close the door in my face when I asked her if Guinevere was doing anything odd, things she couldn't explain. She said 'no'. It was one of the servants gasping at my question that gave it away.

"I said to her it seemed to me not everybody agreed with her. She finally let me in and called for the governess who confirmed Guinevere had powers. But I could tell her mother was actually quite afraid of her magic. In speaking with the governess, I found out Guinevere only spends dinner with her parents, and during the school year she was shipped out of the country. They used to take her on some of their social outings when they needed to show themselves as a _respectable_ family but they stopped doing it when Guinevere began to exhibit her powers. They were afraid she would embarrass them!"

"How did you make them agree to send Guinevere to Hogwarts?"

"Well, free boarding school just sounded irresistible to them, greedy gits!"

She sounded so much like Ron at that moment it made Harry smile.

"And what about Diagon Alley?" asked Harry.

"Well, they didn't want to come, as you can imagine. So I thought about what you and Ron would do," she said, looking at her hands. "And I thought about what Hagrid did to your cousin when he went to get you. So I gave them tails and told them I would remove them only if they came with us," she added with a small embarrassed voice.

"Wh – what? Really?" asked Harry surprised she would go so far outside of the rules.

"Well, I had to have them care for their daughter for once in their life," said Hermione defensively.

"We _do_ have a bad influence on you!" said Harry amazed.

"Well, it worked!" said Hermione. "And I removed the tails once we got back. But I did tell them if they don't take Guinevere to King's Cross Station on September 1st, they'll grow back," added Hermione, blushing slightly.

"Unbelievable!" said Harry with an amused smile.

"Just so you know," said Hermione, changing the subject, "I got you the information about the NEWTs for Defence. I also got some about the OWLs, in case you're interested. I'll send them to your house tomorrow."

"Thanks. It'll give me time to work on those before school begins."

"I never thought I would see the day when you would do school work before school actually begins, Harry!" said Hermione, laughing.

"It's not the same," said Harry seriously. "A lot of people depend on me."

"Nervous?" asked Hermione.

"Aren't you?" asked Harry.

"Not really," answered Hermione. "Well, a little," she added. "After all, if students hate my classes, they may end up not liking Muggles, too."

"No pressure there," said Harry lightly. "Should be easier than hiding from Voldemort and the Death Eaters though."

"Yes, I would say so," said Hermione, grinning.

Guests had began to leave when Ginny came and sat next to Harry.

"I'm thinking about going to bed," she said.

"Yeah! Good idea," said Ron who had also just joined them.

Harry offered his hand to Ginny, and they slowly followed Ron and Hermione inside. Hermione was already in the room she shared with Ginny, and Ron was already upstairs in his room when Harry and Ginny stepped on the first floor landing.

"Happy birthday," whispered Ginny, leaning forward and kissing him.

"Ginny," Harry whispered against her lips.

He brought his hands to her face and holding it gently, kissed her more and more deeply, giving free rein to the passion he had felt for her earlier but had not acted upon. He savoured the taste of her, enjoying her smell, touching the softness of her skin with his fingers. He felt his body respond to her closeness, growing hard with need. He couldn't remember ever wanting her so much.

"Harry!" called Ron in a loud whisper from upstairs. "You'll get in trouble!"

His eyes glazed with desire, Harry looked at Ginny.

"Home?" he whispered, bringing his lips to her neck and retrieving his wand with his left hand.

"Oh! Please!" she begged, sinking against him.

And with a twisting motion, Harry disapparated, holding her tightly against him.

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"I can't believe this!" exclaimed Harry.

He and Ginny were eating breakfast early the next morning in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place while reading the Daily Prophet.

"What?" asked Ginny distractedly, keeping her eyes on her own section of the paper.

"_If a SkyGazer 100 is good enough for Harry Potter, it's good enough for you!_" read Harry. "That's the SkyGazer 100 ad! How did they know I have one already?"

Ginny looked up from her article and slowly put the piece of toast she was eating on her plate. She took a deep breath, bracing herself.

"I am afraid it may be a little bit my fault," she said hesitantly.

"Wh-what?" asked Harry, looking up at her.

"Well," she began, looking at her plate, "when they hired me to do the photo shoot, they were offering me only one broom. But I knew you would love to have one, too," she added quickly, looking up at him. "So I asked for two. They didn't really want to so I said 'Think what your clients would say if they knew Harry Potter had one.' Harry, it was the only way for me to get you a broom. I would never have been able to afford it otherwise... and I wanted you to have one so much!"

"You traded my name for a broom?" asked Harry split between being angry and amused.

"Yes, I did," she said feistily. "They would have found out and used it in their ads eventually anyway! Might as well get something out of it for once!"

Ginny had been so subdued lately, Harry thought it was nice to see some of her spunk back.

"Somebody did tell me once I would never have a dull moment with you," he said, laughing.

"You're not – you're not angry?" she asked hesitantly.

Harry took her hand and kissed her fingers.

"No, not at all," he answered.

They had barely gone back to their breakfast when an owl flew into the kitchen.

"Who could be sending us post this early?" asked Harry, frowning.

"I don't know," answered Ginny. "But it looks like my parents' new bird."

The owl landed on the table next to Ginny.

"A howler?" asked Harry, seeing the red envelope.

Ginny took the letter from the owl which flew away as soon as it was free.

"It's addressed to both of us," she said, opening it, intrigued.

"Ginevra Molly Weasley! Harry James Potter!" screamed Mrs Weasley's voice. "How dare you leave the house without telling anyone, without leaving a note? You had us all worried sick! You could have been kidnapped! You could have been hurt! You could have been killed! After what we've all been through the last few years, you should know better! I am expecting your apologies... and don't ever do that again!"

And the message busted into flames.

Harry and Ginny looked at one another and after a few seconds, began to laugh.

"You know, it's not funny, really," said Ginny once she had composed herself. "We may be a little old for this but Mum must have been really worried."

"It's still early," said Harry. "And we're still in our pyjamas… Why don't we just go back?"

Ginny and Harry stood up, and taking her in his arms, he apparated them on the landing where they had been kissing the night before.

"There you are," said Ron, coming down the stairs yawning. "But wait a minute, mate," he said, becoming fully awake. "Your bed looked like nobody had slept in it… Mum let you two sleep in the same room?"

"No, Ron," said Ginny sarcastically. "We slept on the landing."

"No," added Harry, amused by Ginny's reply and Ron's annoyance. "We actually slept at the house."

"Harry, let's go see Mum," suggested Ginny.

In the kitchen, Mrs Weasley was having tea with Hermione.

"Ginny, dear," said Mrs Weasley, hugging her daughter. "I'm sorry, dear. I shouldn't have sent the Howler… It's just that sometimes I forget the war is over and you're all grown up. And when Hermione told me she didn't know where you were, I feared for the worst."

'A Howler?' Ron mouthed at Harry.

Harry shook his head indicating Ron should drop the subject. Now was not the time for an explanation.

"That's okay, Mum. Don't worry about it," said Ginny. "It was – it was actually – quite touching that you care about us so much."

"Thank you, dear," said Mrs Weasley, holding Ginny's face in her hands. "It's quite gracious of you to help your old mother save face."

Ginny was about to reply when her father walked into the house.

"Morning, children!" he said. "Oh! Harry! Ginny! I thought you'd gone home already."

"We had," said Ginny, looking at her mother. "But we thought it would be nice to come back for breakfast," she added.

Mrs Weasley tenderly tapped Ginny on the cheek.

"Let me prepare you something," she said, walking to the stove.

"Mum, cereal will be fine, really," said Ginny.

Mrs Weasley looked at Ginny for a moment, figuring out they had already eaten and Ginny had only said that to save her mother's face again.

"Then, cereal it is," said Mrs Weasley with a smile.

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	13. Chapter 12 The Commitment

A/N: very short chapter so that is why it is already ready.

Thanks to all of you who added my story to their favourites and to all of you who wrote a review.

Thank you my wonderful beta ZephyrDragon.

I do know own Potterverse. Thank you JKR.

CHAPTER 12 – The Commitment

When Ginny woke up the morning of her birthday, Harry was already awake and was looking at her sleep, sitting at the foot of the bed.

"Harry, what's wrong?" she asked, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

"Happy birthday!" he said with a smile. "I – I got a gift for you," he added nervously.

Ginny sat on the bed in front of him and crossed her legs. From behind his back, Harry retrieved two little boxes and set them on the bed between them. Ginny looked up at him intrigued. Harry took a deep breath to calm his nerves and looked up at her.

"Ginny," he began. "Ginevra Molly Weasley, I love you and every day, I love you more and more. And – and I want to spend the rest of my life with you," he said.

He took one of the boxes and opened it.

"This is a Commitment ring," he said, showing her the beautifully crafted golden ring. "I would – I would be very honoured if you would accept this ring as a sign of my Commitment to you, and hope you will be willing to take the Commitment with me."

Ginny smiled at him and for the first time in a very long time, Harry saw tears shining in her eyes.

"You mean it, don't you?" she asked, as if she was afraid he would take his words back.

"Yes, Ginny," he answered. "I mean every single word of it."

"Yes, Harry James Potter! I accept your ring with all my heart," she said, wiping away her tears with the back of her right hand, and offering her left one to Harry.

With shaking fingers, Harry took the ring from the box and slid it onto her Commitment finger. Like Ron and George said, the ring fitted her perfectly.

"Ginny, this is a very special ring," said Harry. "It has a twin…"

"Yes," she whispered, "I know," she added with a smile. "Hermione told me about hers."

She took the second box and removed the ring. Harry held out his hand and Ginny slipped the ring on his finger. Harry had expected to feel something of Ginny but he didn't seem to feel anything other than a warm presence. Then it occurred to him that she must be feeling pretty much the same as he did right about now, and her next words confirmed it.

"I love you, Harry James Potter," she whispered, leaning forward to kiss him.

It was well past noon before they got out of bed that day.

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That evening, the entire Weasley family and their significant others came to the Burrow for Ginny's birthday dinner. The only one missing was Charlie who was still in Romania. The kitchen being too small, Mrs Weasley had set the table outside.

Ginny was sitting at the table in discussion with Hermione when Harry walked out of the house, something perfectly white and furry cradled against his chest.

"No," said Ginny, surprised, when she saw him. "It can't be."

She stood up and walked to him. The little white ball, shaking with fear, looked up and set two deep blue eyes on Ginny.

"Is it... is it for me?" asked Ginny.

"Yes. Sorry she's a mess. She doesn't like Apparating much."

"Oh!" said Ginny, taking the little kneazle in her arms. "She's beautiful," she added, petting her affectionately. "Is she named yet?"

"No," answered Harry smiling. "Mrs Figg hadn't named her."

"I'm going to call you Blanche," said Ginny to the now loudly purring cat. "Thank you," she told Harry, leaning forward to kiss him.

"I'll register her at the Ministry for you tomorrow," he said when they pulled apart. "Come on! Everybody's waiting for us to eat."

Later during dinner, Ginny was taking a sip from her glass when Mrs Weasley said: "Ginny, dear, what's that on your finger?"

Everybody turned to look at her hand which was still holding her glass halfway towards her mouth. Then quite a few of them tried to get a glimpse of Harry's hand as well to see if it had a twin.

"Oh! Nothing really! It's just a Commitment ring," she answered lightly, smiling at Harry who was grinning back at her.

A total silence felt over the attendees. While Ron, Hermione and George were grinning knowingly, Angelina, Fleur, Bill, Audrey – Percy's new girlfriend – Percy, and Mr and Mrs Weasley were staring at her open mouthed. The loud crash of Mrs Weasley's spoon hitting her bowl broke the silence, and everybody began asking questions at the same time.

"Shut it!" yelled Ginny over them all.

And they all felt silent.

"Now," she said in the silence, "here is how it happened…"

And she told them the story of how Harry had asked her to Commit.

"Oh!" said Mrs Weasley in tears.

She stood up and walked around the table to hug Ginny who had also stood, anticipating her mother's reaction.

"My baby! My little girl! Committed!" she said, looking into her daughter's eyes. "I'm so proud of you. Harry's such a nice young man," she added, smiling at Harry.

She then turned to Ron and Percy, her expression becoming severe.

"And you, what are you waiting for? Now that your sister is Committed, it's about time you think about it, too!"

George, who was already Promised, looked at Angelina grinning, while Percy and Ron both looked at their plates, their ears turning red.


	14. Chapter 13 The Departure

A/N: my beta pointed to me that I have used another reference to the movie in this piece. I have used the movie description of the Defence classroom. Sorry if I offend anyone but, like I said before, we are a visual society...

CHAPTER 13 – The Departure

Harry closed his trunk, reluctantly. With Ginny's help, he had just finished packing for Hogwarts. He would be departing that afternoon, after taking Connor to the train station.

He looked up at Ginny who was folding one of his shirts to put away in the chest of drawers. Her long red hair, which had grown so much since the war and was now below her waist, was shining in the semi-darkness of the room. She was wearing her Quidditch practice uniform which always clung to her figure so well.

She closed the drawer and turned to face him. Her brown eyes found his and she frowned.

"What are you doing still standing here?" she asked. "You'll be late!"

"I – I…" he began, wanting to tell her how much he loved her, how much he would miss her, that the last few months had been the best of his life, and he simply didn't think he could make it without her, that he didn't know how he ever had. "I will be back," he simply said instead.

She gave him a radiant smile, and stepped towards him to straighten his already very straight tie just to have something to do.

"Come," she said. "Let's get you a taxi, Professor Potter."

Half an hour later, Harry picked up Connor and they made their way to King's Cross Station. Connor, who had said goodbye to his parents at home, sat quietly next to Harry.

"Connor, what's wrong?" asked Harry to the unusually quiet child.

"I had a dream, Professor," answered Connor. "In it, Mum was crying a lot, and Dad didn't know how to comfort her. I think she was crying because I was away at school and she missed me. Professor, I really wish she didn't have to work and could have seen me off."

"I know, Connor, but do you think your Mum would rather you stayed at home?" asked Harry gently.

"No," answered Connor. "I think she's very happy for me," he added with a small smile.

"And that's absolutely right," said Harry. "So do you think she would want you to be sad about her missing you?"

"No," answered Connor, hesitantly. "Professor, do you think Miss Weasley could check on her while we're at school?" he asked hopefully.

"When we get to school, let's send her a letter and ask, okay?" said Harry with an amused smile.

"Okay," answered Connor, also smiling.

A few minutes later, they arrived at King's Cross. Harry found a trolley and loaded Connor's trunk onto it, along with the two half-kneazles' cages.

"Professor Potter, where's your trunk? Aren't you taking the train with me?"

"No, Connor. The train journey is a time for you to make some friends," answered Harry. "I'll be at Hogwarts when you get there, don't worry."

Harry remembered his first journey on the train and the good time he had had with his then new friend, Ron. He was still, to this day, amazed at how well they had got along. Ron had been his very first friend and Harry thought he could not have asked for a better one. He also remembered that he had made a bitter enemy of Malfoy on that same trip, but that was now only a bad memory.

As they reached the barrier between platforms 9 and 10, Harry told Connor about the entrance to platform 9 ¾, and showed him how to walk through without muggles noticing.

"Wow!" said Connor. "That's weird!"

"Yes, it can be disconcerting," said Harry. "Come on!"

"Wow!" said Connor again when he saw the smoking red locomotive.

"Let's find you a seat," said Harry, pushing the trolley forward.

Harry's passage through the crowd was followed by the usual stares, pointing and whisperings of his name. He tried to ignore them but Connor was growing nervous.

"Professor, why are they all looking at you again? I know what Professor Granger said, but why, really?" he asked curiously.

"Tell you what," said Harry, leaning down to look Connor in the eye. "This weekend, come and have tea with me, and I will tell you about it if you want, okay?"

"Okay," answered Connor. "It's not bad, is it?"

"No," answered Harry, laughing. "It's just a rather long story."

"Connor! Over here!" called somebody from a few carriages down the train.

Harry looked up and saw Gregory MacMillan with his brother Ernie and his mother. Connor ran to Gregory, and they both started to talk animatedly.

"Harry," greeted Ernie, shaking Harry's hand.

"Ernie," answered Harry with a smile. "Nice to see you."

Harry, helped by Ernie, unloaded the trunks and cages into the compartment.

"So, what are you doing now?" asked Ernie. "I heard you're no longer with the Ministry."

"No," answered Harry. "I've taken up the Defence Against the Dart Arts position."

"Really!" exclaimed Ernie surprised. "Well, come to think of it, you're probably the best choice," he added with a smile. "You did teach me more than half of what I know after all."

"Thanks!" said Harry. "It'll be good to be back at Hogwarts."

"And I'm sure we'll receive plenty of owls telling us all it," said Ernie, giving his little brother a smile.

The Conductor blew the whistle and Harry closed the door.

"Will you be all right, Connor?" he asked the boy who seemed to have forgotten all about him.

"Oh, yes Professor!" he answered.

"Here," said Harry, giving him some money through the opened window. "Get something nice from the trolley. But be weary of the Every-Flavour Beans… they can be quite nasty."

"Thank you, Professor!" said Connor, waving at Harry as the train departed. "See you at school!"

Harry arrived at Hogwarts less than an hour later by Floo powder, and readied his bedroom, his office and then his classroom. He had loved this room during Lupin's year and hated it during Umbridge's. He sincerely hoped he would do honour to the former, and completely annihilate any memories of the later, especially for the remaining students who had been unlucky enough to have had her. They would all be fifth, sixth and seventh years by now, he realized.

"Good afternoon, Professor Potter," said Professor McGonagall, interrupting his thoughts by walking into his classroom. "May I have a word?"

"Yes, of course, Professor McGonagall."

"Harry, as you may not know, you and Hermione are the only other Gryffindors, other than myself and Hagrid, in the faculty staff at the moment," she began. "My responsibilities as Headmistress are taking away a lot of my time, meaning I can no longer give that role justice. Therefore I would be honoured if you would accept the position of Head of the Gryffindor House... in addition to your other duties."

Harry stared at her a few long seconds before responding.

"Why not ask Hermione or Hagrid?"

"Because, Mr Potter, since I knew you would say that, I have asked them before you and they both refused," answered Professor McGonagall. "Hagrid thinks he would not fit through the door to the common room," she explained with an amused smile, "and Hermione thinks, like I do, that this school and this House need the best symbol of heroism it can spare. I think it would be a great disservice to this school if I did not offer the most illustrious and courageous of its students a title he deserves maybe more than anybody else before him.

"Harry, the school needs something it can be proud of, something that would boost the collective moral, and make us believe that there are things other than darkness in our recent past," pleaded Professor McGonagall.

"In that case, Headmistress, I accept," said Harry.

"Thank you, Harry," she said, gratefully smiling at him. "You will make the House of Gryffindor very proud...

"Oh! I almost forgot," she said, stopping on her way to the door. "The password is 'Forgive and move on'."

While he was preparing for the feast later that evening, Harry pondered Professor McGonagall's words. She was right; Hogwarts had seen some very dark moments in the last few years, which almost destroyed the historical institution completely. Memories of those awful moments could still be seen in the haunted faces of some of the older students on platform 9 ¾ earlier this morning; the ones who had lost friends and the ones who were struggling to fit seven years of education into six. Harry himself had lost a lot during the war and, until very recently, he had not handled it well at all. Not everybody was as lucky as he was. Not everybody had somebody like Ginny to make them see what life was worth living for.

Harry had just finished changing into his teachers' robes when he heard a knock at his office door. He picked up his wand, put it in its pocket, and answered it, suspecting that it might be Hermione. He was right.

"Ready?" she asked, looking rather severe in her dark grey robe. Hermione's teaching uniform resembled what the students wore, but it was a much darker grey and the skirt was ankle length.

"I think so," answered Harry, stepping out of the office and closing the door behind him.

They walked down the stairs and through the classroom.

"I love what you've done with the place," she said. "It reminds me of Professor Lupin's classroom."

"That was the idea," answered Harry, following her into the corridor.

"It feels weird to be back at Hogwarts again, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, a bit," he answered.

"Congratulations, by the way," she said with a smile, "on being made Head of Gryffindor."  
"Thank you," said Harry, also smiling.

"So, which house do you think Connor will be sorted into?" asked Hermione.

"Probably Ravenclaw," he answered slowly. "Ollivander said to expect great wisdom from him."

"I think Guinevere will be placed in Hufflepuff. She reminds me of Hannah and Ernie."

She led them down the flight of stairs towards the dungeons.

"Hermione, where are we going?" asked Harry.

"To the teachers' entrance, of course," she answered.

Harry remembered the room he had been directed to after being chosen for the Triwizard Tournament. However, he did not remember seeing another entrance other than through the Great Hall. They arrived in front of a painting of a severe looking man in full wizard regalia and Hermione said: "Those who give shall receive."

The painting moved aside to reveal a stairway which Hermione climbed, followed by Harry. A few moments later, they emerged in the sumptuous room Harry remembered so well. Most of the other teachers were there, talking quietly.

"Professor Granger, aren't you supposed to be out the front?" asked Professor McGonagall, walking in.

"I was just…" began Hermione, automatically defending herself.

"Hermione, you aren't a student anymore," interrupted Professor McGonagall with a raised hand and a smile. "You do not need to justify yourself."

Hermione gave a shy smile. "I'm going then," and she left through the Great Hall.

"Come everyone, let's get seated," said Professor McGonagall, walking into Hall.

There were only twelve seats at the top table for the feast. Harry was seated two seats to the right of Professor McGonagall, between Hermione and Hagrid. On Hagrid's right was Professor Sinistra, Professor Babbling, and Madam Pomfrey. To Professor McGonagall's immediate left sat Professor Flitwick who was now Deputy Headmaster, Professor Sprout, Professor Slughorn, Professor Silverspoon – who was introduced to Harry as the new Transfiguration teacher – and Professor Trelawney.

Students began to arrive as the teachers took their seats. Once everybody was settled, Hermione walked in followed by the first years. There were a lot more of them this year than in previous years. While Harry's year had had 40 students, there were now 60. It gave Harry hope that after this war people might be more inclined in sending their children to Hogwarts.

Like every year, the Sorting Hat, which was more battered than ever following its encounter with Voldemort, sang a song praising the virtues of each House, and encouraging all the students to forge friendships between them.

The sorting began and Guinevere was the fifth name called. The Hat hesitated for only an instant before shouting "Gryffindor". Hermione, surprised, chanced a glance at Harry who just shrugged in response. Gregory MacMillan was also sorted into Gryffindor, which surprised Harry since Ernie had been in Hufflepuff. Connor was sorted shortly thereafter.

The Sorting Hat took longer pondering Connor's mind, but finally settled for "Gryffindor". Connor walked over to the Gryffindor table, sat down and waved at Harry. Harry waved back with a smile on his face.

The rest of the sorting ceremony took so long that Harry's stomach was growling loudly when Professor McGonagall stood up and said: "Let the feast begin!"

"She's in Gryffindor!" said Hermione to Harry, taking her seat between Harry and Professor McGonagall. "I wasn't expecting that!"

"With your intelligence, Miss Granger, it is a wonder you weren't sorted into Ravenclaw yourself," said Professor McGonagall who had heard her. "The Sorting Hat saw something in you that we only saw in your sixth year. Maybe the same will happen to your charge. She may surprise us all. Where did you charge ended up, Mr Potter?"

"Gryffindor too," answered Harry.

"Were you expecting it?"

"No," answered Harry. "Ollivander said we should expect great wisdom from him… I thought he would have ended up in Ravenclaw."

"You forget Professor Dumbledore, Harry," said Professor McGonagall with a smile. "He was one of the wisest wizards the world has ever seen, and a Gryffindor."

"Yes," admitted Harry. "I did forget."

When everybody had eaten to their heart's content, Professor McGonagall stood up to address the students.

"May I have your attention, please," she began. "I have a few start-of-term notices to give you.

"We have three additions to our staff this year. Professor Silverspoon who will be teaching Transfiguration, Professor Granger teaching Muggle Studies, and Professor Potter who has agreed to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts."

Harry's name was met with an explosion of applause and excited whispering from the students all of whom were trying to get a good look at him.

"Silence!" commanded Professor McGonagall, as effectively as Professor Dumbledore could. "Professor Potter has also kindly accepted to be Head of the Gryffindor House."

This announcement was greeted by a loud cheer from the Gryffindor students.

"In addition, Muggle Studies or Magical Studies will be mandatory for all students. Students will be evaluated in their first period to be classified in one group or the other, unless they are exceptionally knowledgeable in both subjects."

This announcement was greeted coldly by some students of pure blood families. Harry would have expected more outcries from the Slytherin table but they were mostly subdued.

"Conversely, Muggle born students will now have to take courses introducing them to the Wizarding world. Again, half-Muggle students will be evaluated to determine which class they should attend.

"First years should note that the forest is forbidden to all students, unless accompanied by a teacher.

"Quidditch trials will be held next week. Should any of you be interested in playing for your House, contact your House Quidditch Captain.

"And finally, Mr Filch has asked me to remind you that magic should not be used in the corridor between classes.

"Now, first years, please follow your Prefects who will show you to your dormitories."

As the students departed the hall, Harry and Hermione made their way back to the teacher's room. All the teachers seated themselves, and Harry and Hermione followed suit.

"Now," said Professor McGonagall. "Welcome everybody," she said warmly. "As most of you know, we have held staff meetings every Thursday after dinner for the past several years, with few exceptions. If nobody opposes, I suggest we keep the same schedule.

"Here is the schedule for the patrol duties for the month," she said as she distributed a few pieces of parchment to each of them. "I expect you can work scheduling conflicts among yourselves.

"I am also giving you the timetable of Muggle aptitude and wizarding knowledge testing as some students may have to excuse themselves from your classes… And please, Heads of Houses, post this schedule on the announcement board in the common room," she added, giving the Heads of Houses an additional piece of parchment. "All the student class schedules will be here tomorrow morning, ready to distribute."

"Now, anything we need to discuss before tomorrow's meeting? Good. See you tomorrow morning."

The professors stood and began to leave.

Followed by Hermione, Harry made his way to the Gryffindor common room to post the Muggle and wizarding world knowledge evaluation announcement.

"Harry, are you sure it's a good idea," asked Hermione. "You know, the students won't be asleep and they'll all want to talk to you."

"Better now than later," said Harry with a sigh. "At least, tomorrow I'll only have to manage three quarters of the school population. _Forgive and move on!_" said Harry to the Fat Lady before she could ask.

The door opened to the common room which was crowded with students. Upon seeing him, all conversation ceased.

"Well, don't all talk at the same time!" said Harry into the stretching silence.

His comment was received with nervous laughs.

"Hi, Professor! I'm Lindsay Morris," said a tall girl offering her hand. "I was in third year when you were here last. I'm Prefect now."

"Hi, Lindsay," said Harry, shaking her hand smiling.

And one by one, the students came and introduced themselves.

"It's very nice to meet you all, and I hope you'll forgive me if I don't remember all of your names tomorrow morning. I'll post this announcement now and see you at breakfast."

Harry posted the announcement and left followed by Hermione.

"That was nice of you," she said.

"Yeah, well," he said, loosening his tie, "remind me never to do that again!"

Laughing, they made their way to their respective quarters.

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"How do you like it so far?" Harry asked Connor the next Saturday.

As they had agreed, Connor had dropped by for tea. They were sitting in Harry's office with the door closed as they kept being interrupted by students who were very skilled at finding reasons to speak to Harry.

"I like it a lot!" answered Connor excited. "I haven't had all my classes yet but I think I like Transfiguration the most."  
"I'm not surprised," said Harry with a smile. "I'm pretty sure you are very gifted."

"Yeah! It's pretty easy."

Connor took a sip of tea.

"Professor, I had another dream," he said, keeping his eyes on his cup.

"Really? Do you want to tell me about it?" asked Harry gently.

"In my dream, there is this girl... She's a Gryffindor but I don't know who she is… I've seen her but I just don't know everybody yet…"

"That's okay," said Harry, reassuringly. "No one would expect you to know everyone on the first week."

"Well, she has no mouth in my dream," said Connor. "She tries to talk to people but she can't because she has no mouth. And then I see her in a corner of the common room. She's crying because she's sad that she can't speak to anybody. Professor, do you know what it means?"

"No, Connor, I don't," answered Harry. "But I'm sure we'll find out in time."

Harry opened one of his desk drawers and removed a blank notebook.

"Here," he said, giving it to Connor. "I want you to take this and write your dreams in it. That way, you'll be able to forget about them as you would after you tell someone. It will also allow you to refer to them at a later date if you need to, okay?"

"Thank you," said Connor, nodding.

"Now, tell me, have you received any letters since you arrived?"

"Yes! My mum wrote me a letter! She said she misses me a lot. She said that she thinks about me every day."

Forgetting all about his dreams and his curiosity about Harry's popularity, Connor spent the remainder of the morning telling Harry about his mother, his classmates, and his classes.

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	15. Chapter 14 The Modern History Lesson

CHAPTER 14 – The Modern History Lesson

Three weeks into the school term, Harry already felt like their task was daunting. Neither Hermione nor he had yet to find any leads on their bewitched student, and Harry was beginning to wonder if they would ever succeed. They had decided to meet with Ron, hoping he might have a different view on the situation.

Harry walked into the Three Broomsticks where he was to meet with his two best friends. They were already there, sitting at a table in a discreet corner, their heads together, whispering and smiling at one another. Harry couldn't help but feel jealous. It was unfair that Ron and Hermione saw each other so often when he only saw Ginny at Quidditch at the Burrow on the weekends. He had to be honest with himself though; he could Floo home most nights. However, his workload was such that if he did so, he wouldn't have time to prepare his lessons, mark assignments, or do any investigation. Ginny had told him as much when he had proposed it the previous Sunday.

"I love you, Harry James Potter, and I want to be with you too, but let's face it: if you come home every night, you're not going to accomplish anything," she had said.

Of course, she was right.

But it didn't mean he had to like it. He still envied Hermione, whose class load was significantly less than his, and got to see Ron quite more often.

He had decided not to interrupt them, and was about to walk out when Hermione saw him and called him over. Harry put on a smile he didn't really feel, and joined them at the table. A few minutes later, he was sipping a warm Butterbeer while Hermione found some parchment and a quill in the same little beaded bag she had carried around when they had been on the run.

"We've been searching for three weeks now, and we still have no idea what is going on!" she said exasperated.

"We know one thing," said Harry. "Sage Livingly is rather a challenge."

"Don't say that, Harry," said Hermione with pity. "It must be horrible to do things you really don't want to do and have no control over it."

"Have you found anything in the library?" asked Ron.

Harry had to smile at the question. It was so typical for Hermione to look in the library for answers, even when they were yet to know what the questions really were.

"That's the problem. I found loads of information but I don't know what I'm looking for," answered Hermione. "I was hoping that by working together, we may come up with some ideas."

"Okay then, first question: why was Sage bewitched?" asked Ron. "And who by?"

"I don't know who by, but I think he was bewitched to get into McGonagall's office," said Harry. "He has to be looking for something."

"How did you figure that, mate? If he's looking for something, couldn't it have been in the Room of Requirement?" asked Ron.

After the Battle of Hogwarts, Hermione, Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick had gone to the Room of Requirement to banish the Fiendfyre. Professor McGonagall had wanted this done quickly in case a student found the Room in their desire to hide something, and fell prey to the Fiendfyre. The Headmistress was very much determined that no more students would die at Hogwarts if she could help it.

They had succeeded in banishing the Fiendfyre, but nothing remained of the contents of the Room except ashes and melted metal, which the house-elves cleaned up as best they could. All who knew about the Room was very much saddened by the lost of knowledge and artefacts, which included the vanishing cabinet the Death Eaters had used to gain access to Hogwarts, and the potion book Harry had hidden there.

"Not necessarily," answered Hermione slowly.

"And what if they don't actually know where it is and are just trying to find out if it's at Hogwarts?" asked Ron.

"That could also be true," said Hermione, writing furiously on her parchment.

"And what if Sage isn't the only one looking? What if he's not the only one bewitched?" asked Ron.

Both Harry and Hermione looked at him grimly. They didn't like the idea of more students being bewitched but they had to consider the possibility.

"I think," began Hermione slowly, "that's more than likely."

Harry frowned, wondering what his friend meant.

"Think about it: if you are desperately looking for something, you will want to put as many chances on your side as you can," she explained.

"_If_ you are looking for something," pointed out Ron.

"Yes, if," agreed Hermione.

They remained silent for a few moments, pondering the implications behind the possibility of having more than one student bewitched.

"We can rule out the first years," said Ron. "They weren't here last year when Sage began to act strangely."

"And I think we can rule out the second and the third years as well," added Harry lost in his thoughts.

"Why?" asked Ron. "How do you figure that?"

"Think about it. When are students not at Hogwarts?"

"On holidays and when they are in Hogsmeade," said Hermione, catching on to where Harry was heading.

"Exactly," said Harry, warming up to his theory. "And if I was a Death Eater or Dark wizard, I wouldn't go and parade myself in front of parents. However, when the students are in Hogsmeade…"

"They're under very limited supervision," finished Ron. "That makes sense."

"And second and third years weren't allowed in Hogsmeade last year," added Hermione.

"Now, supposing there are more bewitched students than just Sage, how do we find the others?" asked Harry.

"Well Sage's behaviour changed a lot," said Hermione. "Maybe that would be the case with the others, if there are any."

"You could ask the other teachers," suggested Ron.

"Yes, I think we should," said Hermione, writing more notes on her parchment. "Now, what could they be looking for? If they are looking for something," she added.

They all looked at one another in silence.

"What type of information did you find in the library, Hermione?" asked Ron.

"Books, cloaks, rings, wands, broomsticks… You name it, I found it!" she answered. "Nothing seems to stand out, really. Nothing I would go to such an extreme to get my hands on."

"Could it be the Elder Wand?" asked Ron.

"No," answered Harry, shaking his head. "They would have to go directly after me if they wanted it, since nobody knows where I've put it... Besides us, of course."

"Anyway," added Hermione, "they would have to fight you to get control of it. No, I don't think the Elder Wand is what they're looking for. Whoever is behind this had no way to know Harry would be here this year."

"You know, it seems to me that this stuff was a lot easier when we were kids," said Ron after a few moments of silence.

"Well, maybe not," said Hermione. "Maybe we just had a lot more to go on."

"Or a lot more luck," added Ron.

"That, too," conceded Hermione.

"I think we won't find any more answers tonight," Harry said, standing up. "Besides, I've got to go back. I've got lessons to prepare for tomorrow… and assignments to mark."

After saying his goodnights, Harry left the Broomsticks still envying his friends for the time they could spend together.

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_Dear Harry,_

Harry was sipping his tea in his office the morning after he had met with Ron and Hermione. He was holding the letter he had just received from Ginny while Allegria was enjoying a few treats on top of his cupboard.

_I have visited Mr and Mrs McKeithan as you and Connor asked. They are doing as well as they can but they miss Connor terribly. Mrs McKeithan's sister, her only remaining relative, passed away from something called cancer last week. Mr McKeithan told me she has been crying a lot and it showed. Her face was puffy and her eyes very red._

_Mr McKeithan asked about Malda. I think he grew very fond of her while she was there. I have asked Malda to visit him once in a while if she wishes to, and she has already taken me up on my offer. She asked me if all Muggles were as nice as Mr and Mrs McKeithan and why don't any free house-elves work for them. I had to explain to her about the Statute of Secrecy all over again. I would not be surprised if Mr and Mrs McKeithan's house is as spotlessly clean as ours._

_Kreacher is as Kreacher is. I know he has gone to Hogwarts a couple of times. Have you run into him yet? Even though the two house-elves are not here all the time, do not worry; the house is as clean as ever and I am well taken care of._

_By the way, I have sent a letter to Connor too so do not be surprised if he visits you today. I am pretty sure he will be excited to know his parents are okay. However, Mr and Mrs McKeithan asked that we do not tell him about Mrs McKeithan's sister. They would rather do that themselves, and they do not want to put worries in his head about them dying while he is away at school._

_I miss you and cannot wait to see you on Sunday at the Burrow. Do you think you can get away earlier and arrive here on Saturday? We could go out for dinner…_

_I have to go to Quidditch practice now. I will write again soon._

_Love,_

_Ginny_

Harry had just finished reading and was folding his letter when he heard someone running up the stairs to his office.

"Professor! Professor!" yelled Connor, bursting in. "Miss Weasley sent me a letter! Mum and Dad miss me but they're okay. And Malda has been visiting them and helping my Mum!"

"Good!" said Harry with an amused smile. "Any more dreams about your Mum crying?"

"No, Professor," answered Connor. "Just dreams where she's watching television with my Dad. Do you know how long it's been since I've seen her watch television? Since we had television? Malda must really be helping out a lot!"

"Good!" said Harry again. "Connor, I hate to cut your visit short but I've got a few things to do before class. Would you mind waiting downstairs?"

"Okay," Connor said, then left.

Harry put his letter away in his drawer with his other correspondence. He took a new sheet of parchment, wrote: 'See you Saturday. Love, Harry', folded his message, and attached it to Allegria who had flown down from the cupboard.

"Allegria, please find Ginny," he asked the owl, walking her to the still open window.

He released the white owl and watched her fly away until she disappeared behind a mountain.

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A week later, Harry knocked on Hermione's office door. He had just finished his last class of the day, and by the students' subdued behaviour and the numerous stares he received in the corridors and in the Great Hall, he knew something must be going on. It reminded him of his second year, when the other students had thought he was the heir of Slytherin.

"Come in," called Hermione from inside.

At her words, the door swung open and Harry walked in. Glancing up from her desk, Hermione muttered "Close," and the door closed.

"You'll have to tell me how to do that," said Harry, looking at the closed door.

"It's rather easy, really," said Hermione, smiling at him.

Harry let himself fall in the chair in front of her desk while Hermione returned to her paperwork.

"Have you noticed anything strange with the students in the last two days?" he asked her, trying to sound casual.

"You mean the staring and the hero worshipping?" she asked her eyes remaining on her work.

"Yeah," answered Harry. "So, you've noticed too?"

"Harry," she said, looking up at him, "have you asked any of them what's going on?"

"No," answered Harry.

"Professor McGonagall has been teaching the older students modern history - the Voldemort era to be more precise."

"Oh!" he said as understanding dawned on him.

He didn't know if he liked the idea of being part of 'History' at nineteen but he thought there was probably no escaping it.

"Harry, you should talk to them. They have a lot of questions, you know, and they don't necessarily understand that you're a normal person, and not some kind of superhero."

Harry thought about what Hermione had just said. He hated the idea of making another speech and being the deliberate centre of attention, but she was right. Besides, teaching, when you thought about it, was just making speeches anyway, and he was doing that every day.

"Tonight, in the Common Room?" he suggested, inviting her to join him.

Talking to the Gryffindors was the most certain way to make sure the entire school knew about it. Paintings and students were, after all, a gossiping lot.

"Okay. I'll be there," she said with an understanding smile.

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Shortly after dinner, Harry made his way to Gryffindor tower, followed by Hermione. If he had to talk to students, it might as well be the ones from his own House. And Hermione was right: they had a right to know that war was nothing glorious, and it was in fact quite ugly.

"Password?" asked the Fat Lady.

"_Forgive and move on,_" answered Harry.

The door opened and Harry walked into the Common Room. The students nearest to the door saw him first and hushed their friends into silence. A few seconds later, all eyes were turned towards him.

"I've heard some of you have had Modern History lessons," he said in the silence.

"Professor," said Connor, walking towards Harry from the back of the room. "Is it true what they say? Is it true you defeated this evil wizard? This Voldemort?"  
Some of the students gasped at the name, but Harry concentrated on Connor instead. The boy's eyes were shining with admiration.

"Yes, I did," answered Harry.

At Harry's answer, everybody began to ask questions at once, each hoping their question would be answered first.

"Okay, everyone!" he said over the crowd. "I want you to listen to me for a moment."

The room fell silent again.

"I will answer your questions as much as I can," he said. "However, there are some things that are private and I will not answer. Now, Professor Granger and I," he added, looking back at Hermione, "will stay as long as is needed so please, do not all talk at the same time."

Nobody seemed to want to speak first, so the room remained silent again.

"Professor," began Gregory MacMillan. "Was it – was it scary?"

"Very much so," answered Harry honestly.

A lot of students gasped at the revelation and some whispered comments to their friends.

"There is something you need to understand," said Harry to the gathered students. "When you read about wars in books, or when somebody tells you about it, it sounds glorious and noble, and even fun. It sounds like the hero is brandishing his wand, walking bravely and without fear towards the enemy.

"Well, you would need to be barking mad to face a wizard like Voldemort with no fear. Professor Granger and I, and our friend Ron, we were scared all the time. Every night we had to cast protective spells around our camp site and take turns standing guard. Every night we were afraid that we would be found. Half the time, we didn't know what we were doing. And we were hungry, and tired, and cold, and afraid. We were on the run and hid for months before we even found any information to help to us. We encountered so much despair, and hopelessness, it's a wonder we didn't go completely mad.

"Lorianna, how old are you?" asked Harry, suddenly changing the subject.

"Sixteen, sir," she answered.

"And you, Joshua?"

"Seventeen, sir."

"And you, Crispian?"

"Seventeen, sir."

"Now, imagine you are about to face a dragon, would you be afraid?" asked Harry.

"We would be stupid not to be," answered Crispian with a smug smile.

"Exactly," said Harry. "Facing Voldemort is like facing a dragon, but a very intelligent and cunning one: you would be very stupid not to be afraid."

"But you did it anyway, sir," said a fourth year. "I don't think I could face a dragon."

"Well, imagine for a moment it takes you facing that dragon in order to save your family, your friends, and everyone you love. Imagine it's the only way. I know you would all do it. Why? Because you would do anything and everything to save the ones you love. That's what being a Gryffindor is all about: saving the ones you love."

Some students nodded in agreement while others puffed up their chests with pride, and still others pondered Harry's words thoughtfully.

"So, am I braver than any of you?" he asked the enraptured crowd. "No, because you would all have done exactly the same thing. So when you see me in the corridors, don't think about what I've done. Instead, think about what you would have done if you'd been in my situation, if you'd been the baby Voldemort had chosen to kill and whose mother sacrificed herself so that you could live."

In the silence that ensued, Harry turned to Hermione who was wiping her eyes on her sleeves.

"That was beautiful," she whispered with a watery smile. "I couldn't have said anything better."

"Professor Potter, sir," asked a student timidly.

Harry turned around to face him.

"What about the Slytherins, sir? I mean most of the Death Eaters were from that House."

"Yes," answered Harry. "That's true but I think it may have been an accident of history," he added thoughtfully. "I think if Voldemort had ended up in another House, most of the Death Eaters would have been from that House. Now, with that being said, I think it's up to Gryffindor students to make friends with the Slytherins. I've noticed a lot of students are still giving them the cold shoulder but I think Gryffindors should show compassion. After all, they're not all bad. Take Professor Slughorn for example. Who doesn't like Professor Slughorn? He's a great guy and he knows his stuff. And when he has his parties, he doesn't only invite Slytherins now, does he? I think we should learn from what he's teaching us outside of class and befriend the Slytherins, too."

"What about you, sir. Do you have any Slytherin friends?"

"Professor Slughorn, of course," answered Harry. "And some of you may be surprised to hear that I _have_ made my peace with Draco Malfoy. We're not friends, really, but we understand each other."

"Really?" said Joshua who, as a seventh year, had witnessed first-hand the conflict between Harry and Draco.

"Really," answered Hermione.

After a few more minutes of conversation, Harry and Hermione left.  
"That went well," said Harry, as they were walking towards their quarters. "Do you think they got the message about the Slytherins?"

Since the beginning of the school year, Harry had seen no improvements in the relationships between the Slytherins and the other Houses. He did not like to think about the consequences of such a rift as some children, who were in fact quite brilliant, were made to pay for the Sorting Hat selection. He was very much afraid that if the animosity between the Houses continued any longer, the Houses would never again be able to unite against an external threat, resulting in the school's eventual downfall. He was also afraid such an animosity would eventually affect the wizarding society, creating yet a bigger rift among wizards.

"I don't know," answered Hermione, also worried. "I hope so."

Harry did not immediately know the impact of his words but it would become apparent as more and more Gryffindor students befriended Slytherins throughout the school year and when, on Valentine's Day, he would catch a seventh-year Gryffindor boy snogging a sixth-year Slytherin girl.

"But I think I could not have said anything better," said Hermione. "Maybe we should meet Pansy and Draco for drinks at the Three Broomsticks sometime."

Harry and Hermione looked at each other and burst out laughing.

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Harry was staring out the window of Headmistress McGonagall's office later that evening. It was the Heads of Houses weekly meeting, and Harry still wondered how he could really contribute anything constructive to these meetings. He still felt grossly inadequate to be Head of Gryffindor.

"... we have removed all the skulls from the Common Room," Professor Slughorn was saying.

He had undertaken the complete remodelling of the Slytherin Common Room and dormitories two weeks prior.

"It's only fitting. We are after all in a school and they _were_ giving the younger students nightmares. Quite honestly, I never liked them myself. Of course, we've kept our snakes, but without the skulls, they look a lot less threatening."

Harry was happy about Professor Slughorn's initiative. The Slytherins were no longer what they had been and they really could use a new image. Harry remembered his visit to the Slytherin Common Room when he was in his second year. He had found the place gloomy and depressing. He had thought such a room conveyed more than a hint of darkness.

Professor Slughorn described at length the improvements being made, expressing his surprise and joy at seeing most of the students embrace the changes. Professors Flitwick and Sprout spoke about their respective Houses explaining the improvements they were also making. Harry, who didn't have anything yet to report, remained at the window, only half listening to the discussion.

"I am beginning to worry our situation is so dire that we may not be able to feed the children past Christmas."

Harry had been thinking about next Sunday's Quidditch game at the Burrow when this remark from Professor McGonagall brought back his attention. He looked around the room where the four other occupants were observing a sober silence.

"Professor, what do you mean?" he asked her.

"Oh! Harry! I forgot that you're not aware of this as you weren't here last year," said Professor McGonagall. "A lot of Hogwarts' financial resources have gone into the reconstruction efforts. As you can imagine, because of the amount of damage the school sustained, it put a serious dent in our savings. Since most of the wizarding world is still recuperating, we have yet to receive most of the regular donations from our benefactors - and some of them were destroyed during the war while others now have their attention turned elsewhere."

Harry knew she was referring mostly to the Slytherin families in the later case and the families who had been hunted down by Voldemort in the former.

"As a consequence, our operating funds are, shall we say, running dry. We've been looking for ways to replenish our coffers, but we are yet to find a solution short of imposing fees on our students. This solution, however, causes its own problems as certain students, including your protégé, Harry, would not be able to afford to pay fees. And so, of course, the question becomes who pays and who doesn't? Do we allow non-paying students to attend at all?"

Harry looked at her, dumbstruck. Refusing admission to students who could not pay was a completely horrible idea. Hogwarts was, after all, a salvation to many of its students just as it had been for Harry.

"I see, by your expression, that you understand our dilemma, Harry," said Professor McGonagall. "But our situation is dire, indeed. In order to provide supplies to our most needy students, we," and she waved to indicate the other teachers in the room, "have gone without a salary for some time now."

"Then I don't want to be paid either!" said Harry. "Merlin knows I don't need the money!"

Professor McGonagall smiled at him gratefully.

"It's very generous of you, Mr Potter. However, that would take us only so far."

"What about the Ministry?" asked Harry.

"They may be willing to help and we have considered it," said Professor McGonagall. "But we still fear the consequences of the Ministry involvement with Hogwarts. After all, we all remember what happened while Umbridge was here."

Another sober silence followed her words.

"Professor," began Harry, thoughtfully. "What if… what if we were to try and sell admission to the Quidditch games," he said slowly, unsure that his idea was really a good one.

However, the other three Head of Houses turned a hopeful gaze on Professor McGonagall, clearly thinking this might be a way to keep the gloomy days at bay for a while longer.

"What do you mean, Mr Potter?" asked Professor McGonagall interested.

"Well, it's not just the students who love a good Quidditch game," said Harry, looking up at her. "What if we were to sell tickets to former students, or anybody who is interested, for them to attend our school games? We may not raise a lot of money, but it might help."

"Oh! I know just the spell to make the stands bigger!" said Professor Flitwick excitedly.

"And I know who to contact to fill those stands!" said Professor Slughorn, just as excited.

"And I have a wonderful list of past students who have kept contact over the years," said Professor Sprout with a delighted smile.

Professor McGonagall looked at each one of them in turn.

"Well, the idea does have potential," she said with a smile. "All things considered, it would not hurt to give it a try. Maybe we should see if Professor Granger may be interested in putting this together, her work load being a little less than ours. Mr Potter, would you talk to her on our behalf?"

When Harry tracked down Hermione in the staff room, he found she was delighted by the idea. She immediately set out for her office to begin and plan the logistics of the event.

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The following Friday afternoon, Harry was in his office filing some of his notes when there was a knock at his door. He looked up to see Kingsley standing in the entrance.

"Minister!" said Harry surprised by the visit. "Please, come in."

Kingsley walked in the room and closed the door behind him. Harry knew the conversation would be serious when Kingsley cast the Muffliato spell on the door. Harry indicated a chair which Kingsley took. Before sitting himself, Harry brewed some tea and offered some to his guest. He was seated behind his desk, sipping his tea when Kingsley finally cleared his throat.

"Harry, Yaxley was not the only one to escape," he stated.

Harry put his cup down on his desk, afraid his hands would start shaking. He suspected he wouldn't like what he was about to hear.

"You remember the Ravenclaw and Slytherin students we couldn't find after the war?"

Harry nodded. They had looked everywhere and had not found the two seventh-years. The only eyewitnesses who remembered them thought they had seen the two walk towards Hogsmeade with two other people they did not recognize.

"We assumed they had ran away," continued Kingsley sadly. "Well, we found them."

Kingsley stayed quiet, taking another sip from his tea, his hands surprisingly steady.

"Where, sir?" asked Harry in the silence which was growing uncomfortably long.

"In the grave that was dug for the Death Eaters who died during the Battle, on the Island of Azkaban," answered Kingsley.

Harry felt like somebody had slapped him. 'How', 'when', and 'where' were the questions he wanted to ask but he just kept quiet, staring at the Minister in horror.

"We believe that some kind of magic was used on those students, most likely Polyjuice Potion. They were murdered with a knife to the heart. The only reason we think there are only two escapees is because only those two students disappeared, and only two bodies were found with knife wounds. But we could be wrong."

"And how can you be sure these two bodies are the students?"

"We have ways," answered Kingsley enigmatically. "We know now the first escapee was Yaxley. However, we cannot seem to figure out who the second escapee is. The bodies were too decomposed to be identified. However, whoever it is, it is not good news."

"Sir, is it possible that those two Death Eaters freed the Carrows?" asked Harry.

"We think it's more than likely," answered Kingsley. "Who would have questioned a Ravenclaw going to his own tower? We also think the two people who were seen with the two students were in fact the Carrows.

"Now, that still doesn't answer why Yaxley went after you the way he did, but the thought that there is another Death Eater out there that we know nothing about - somebody who is clever enough to escape in such a way - is somewhat disconcerting."

If Harry had ever heard an understatement, that was it. He would rather have said 'downright alarming'.

"Sir, why come personally to tell me this?" he asked. "Officially, I'm a teacher now, not an Auror."

Kingsley smiled, amused.

"We think the Carrows, Yaxley and whoever else has escaped, have stayed in this area," answered Kingsley. "We cannot be certain but we strongly suspect it. We would like you to keep an eye out for them while you're here. Obviously we want to find out who the other escapee is."

"Could they be the ones interfering with the students?"

"Students?" asked Kingsley with an emphasis on the plural.

"Yes," answered Harry. "We suspect there is more than one, but we don't know who else yet."

"Well, we don't know, but I don't think it likely. For one thing, the Carrows are too recognizable around town and by the student population, and we don't think either of them is powerful enough to bewitch Yaxley and make him break into your house in such a stupid way. Yaxley was known at the Ministry. While he was completely deranged, evil and ruthless, he was not stupid. Now," said Kingsley, standing up, "if I take any more of your time, you'll miss dinner and so will I."

He removed the Muffliato spell from the door.

"I'll see you later, Harry," he said genially, opening the door.

"Yes, Minister," answered Harry, walking to the door and shaking his hand.

From the corner of his eye, Harry could have sworn he saw somebody lurking in the classroom below, but when he looked again, there were nobody there but the retreating Minister.

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	16. Chapter 15 The St Mungo's Hospital

CHAPTER 15 – St. Mungo's Hospital

It was rainy and cold when Harry Apparated to Wimbolt Street on Tuesday evening. Earlier that day, he had received what he had requested two months earlier: special permission to take Mr McKeithan to be seen by the St. Mungo's Healers. Kingsley's written words were still fresh in Harry's memory.

_ Dear Harry,_

_ I hope this letter finds you well. As you requested, I was finally able to obtain a special dispensation from St. Mungo's Administration for Mr McKeithan to see a Healer. This was not easily obtained as we found that some of the staff at St. Mungo's see Muggles as unworthy of consideration. Rest assured these people were found and reassigned to positions more suitable to their ideas and beliefs. It is high time the wizarding world understands that without Muggles we could not exist – they are the ones who produce most of our food and without them we would die out! But I diverge as I know you agree with me on these issues._

_ Please take Mr McKeithan to St. Mungo's Hospital on Wednesday 6__th__ October, to the Unidentified Ailment Department on the ground floor at 9am. Healer Theorus Troovus will be there waiting to see you. I think you will like Healer Troovus; he is an interesting man. I would suggest that Mr McKeithan brings a change of clothes and a pair of pyjamas as I suspect they will keep him for a few days._

_ Let me know if you encounter any problem at all._

_ Sincerely, _

_Kingsley._

Harry thought the arrangements could not have fallen on a better day. Hermione, who had no classes on Wednesdays, had agreed to teach on his behalf with Professor McGonagall's blessing. Now, Harry just hoped Mr McKeithan would be willing to come to the hospital with him the next morning.

A few seconds after Harry rang the doorbell, Mrs McKeithan opened it.

"Is Connor fine?" she asked, paling with worry at seeing Harry at her door.

"Yes! Yes!" answered Harry quickly. "He's doing great! I'm not here about Connor. I wanted to have a word with you and Mr McKeithan about his eye condition."

Mrs McKeithan led him to the living room where Mr McKeithan was listening to the radio. The house was so clean that Harry would not have been surprised to hear Malda had been over during the day.

"Paul, Professor Potter is here," announced Mrs McKeithan.

"Is Connor all right?" asked Mr McKeithan worried.

"Yes, dear," she answered, smiling at her husband. "Mr Potter came to talk to us about your eyes."

"My eyes?" asked Mr McKeithan intrigued.

"Yes, sir," answered Harry.

Upon hearing Harry's voice, Mr McKeithan smiled.

"Mr Potter," he said, offering his hand. "I'm so glad you came. Please take a seat."

Harry shook Mr McKeithan's hand and sat down on the sofa.

"I've got to tell you, Mr Potter, your Malda and her little son are bringing me great joy," he said, looking towards Harry with his unseeing eyes. "I used to be rather lonely here by myself all day. But your little… what is she? A house-elf?"

"Yes, sir," responded Harry with a smile.

"Well, she's a joy. She comes two or three times a week to help around the house, and then she tells me stories about that wonderful school Connor is attending and other marvels of your world."  
"Well, sir, I'm glad you like her. Ginny and I are very fond of her too, very much so. She's a great addition to our household."

Even if she didn't have the burning desire to be freed, she reminded Harry of Dobby with her ability to find joy in the simplest things.

"So," said Mr McKeithan. "You wanted to talk to me about my eyes?"

"Yes, sir," said Harry. "I was wondering if you would be willing to see our Healers."

"Healers? You mean as in magical doctors?" asked Mr McKeithan puzzled. "What more could they do?"

"Well, our Healers don't use the same methods and healing techniques as muggle doctors," said Harry. "I thought perhaps they would find something muggle doctors couldn't."

"Paul," said Mrs McKeithan, putting her hand gently on her husband's arm, "it may be worth a try."

"Mary, I haven't seen anything in four years. And for the last seven years, ever since my eyesight began to change, we've seen all the military and civilian doctors we could," said Mr McKeithan sadly. "They were never able to figure out what's wrong. What could seeing even more doctors do?"

"Paul, I've seen what wizards can do on that street of theirs, things I would never have thought possible. And we've both seen what Connor can do," she said gently. "I don't want to get my hopes up either, but I don't want to spend the rest of my life wondering 'what if'. I think you should go, Paul. Something tells me this kind of opportunity is a great privilege not often granted to non-magical people like us."

She looked at Harry who simply nodded, confirming her words. Mr McKeithan remained silent, pondering her words.

"Please, Paul," she asked after a few seconds of silence. "Do it for Connor and me."

"Mr Potter…" began Mr McKeithan.

"Please, call me Harry," interrupted Harry.

"Harry," began Mr McKeithan again, with a smile. "When would I need to present myself to your… Healers?"

"Tomorrow morning, sir," answered Harry. "I can pick you up around eight."

"Okay, Harry. I'll go with you."

Shortly before nine o'clock the next morning, Harry and Mr McKeithan were standing in front of what appeared to be an old department store with a 'closed for refurbishment' sign on the doors. Harry told the ugly dummy in the window their destination and, holding Mr McKeithan by the elbow, walked through the glass like he had done a few years ago when he had visited Mr Weasley. The reception area looked exactly the same as the last time he was here, with rows of wooden chairs on which witches and wizards, some looking perfectly normal, some not so much, were sitting. As Harry knew where he was going, he followed the signs to the Unidentified Ailment Department and came to a door with a sign announcing Healer Theorus Troovus as the attending Healer. Harry opened the door and walked into a small waiting area, which was surprisingly empty. After helping Mr McKeithan to a chair, he walked up to the reception counter and rang a small bell. A middle age Healer with shoulder length hair which had probably never seen a comb emerged from a door behind the counter. The man had an easy smile and sparkling brown eyes behind small square glasses.

"Mr Potter!" said the man, offering his hand. "It's an honour to finally meet you. I'm Healer Theorus Troovus," he said, shaking Harry's hand vigorously. "I was expecting you. I have to admit I was impressed with the Minister's influence over our thick headed administration. Is this our patient?" asked Healer Troovus, pointing at Mr McKeithan.

"Yes," answered Harry. "Healer Troovus, are we the only ones here?"

"Well, yes," he answered. "Usually, people know what they're here for. The only time we get anybody coming to see us is when a wizard is exposed to something, mostly in the muggle world, but does not know what. I think muggle afflictions are fascinating, but so misunderstood. I even interned in one of their hospitals once. Very fascinating."

The Healer reminded Harry of Mr Weasley with his enthusiasm for all things muggle.

"Good morning, good sir!" said Healer Troovus jovially to Mr McKeithan. "I'm Healer Theorus Troovus! I'll be seeing you today."

Looking at Healer Troovus with his unseeing eyes, Mr McKeithan stood up and offered his hand, which the Healer shook as vigorously as he had shaken Harry's.

"Nice to meet you, Healer Troovus. I'm Paul McKeithan. Young Harry here seems to think you can do something for me."

"The eyes? Yes?" asked the Healer already intently peering at Mr McKeithan's eyes.  
"Yes," answered Mr McKeithan.

"Please, come into my office."

Healer Troovus guided Mr McKeithan to an examining room which was very similar to a muggle doctor's office. He made Mr McKeithan sit on an examination table and, murmuring to himself, looked closely at Mr McKeithan's eyes, turning Mr McKeithan's head every which way and holding his eyelid opened.

"Yes… a little bit of this… interesting… Mmh… Mr McKeithan," he finally said, "did you, by any chance, fight in the muggle war in Iraq about 10 years ago?"

"Why? Yes, I did! How did you know?" asked Mr McKeithan surprised.

"And I want to say you began losing your vision about 7 years ago, and became blind about four or five years ago, right?"

"Yes," answered Mr McKeithan now astonished.

"I've seen your condition before," said the Healer. "I've seen it in a wizard who went to fight in the muggle war. I wish you had been brought to me earlier," he added with a deep frown.

"Does that mean you can't do anything for him?" asked Harry.

"Oh no, Mr Potter! I can do something for him, alright. It's just going to be longer and more painful, that's all," said Healer Troovus. "Mr McKeithan, I hope you have a few days."

"I have all the time you need," answered Mr McKeithan eagerly. "Healer, what caused my condition?" he asked curiously.

"During your war, from what I understood, one of the armies used some type of thing they called a 'chemical agent'. Turns out it was a very badly brewed magic potion that can create all sorts of ailment, the most common of which, apparently, is damage to the eyes. Muggles should not mess with things they don't understand! Especially when it involves magic! But what can I say, they never learn… No offence, of course," he added to the attention of Mr McKeithan.

"None taken," said Mr McKeithan, "as I would agree with you."

"Well, let's get you ready, good sir. You _are_ in for a tough few days."

Mr McKeithan was brought to a small ward with four beds. Healer Troovus gave Mr McKeithan a pair of pyjamas.

"I would strongly suggest you change into these and make yourself comfortable. I see that you brought your own but I suggest you keep them for later in the week, when the worse is past. I'll go prepare the infusion and the ointment."

Mr McKeithan changed, and sat on one of the beds.

"Harry, do you really think it's going to work?" asked Mr McKeithan, for the first time showing some worry.

"Yes, sir," Harry answered with a smile. "You would be surprised what magic can do."

Healer Troovus came back about an hour later with an infusion.  
"Now, before we begin, I have to explain to you what will happen. For the next three days, you'll take this infusion every four hours. This will flush out the potion that got stuck into your system. Now, my good sir, you will be very, very sick: sweating, vomiting, shivering, you name it. It _will not_ be fun and you _will_ be hurting everywhere. At the same time, we'll be putting ointment over your eyes to extract most of the poison that accumulated in there. It won't be pretty, it will be painful and you _will_ beg me to stop," he added seriously. "Are you ready to go through all that?"

"Will I see again?" asked Mr McKeithan.

"If all goes well, yes, as if nothing had ever happened to you," answered the Healer with a smile.

"Then, I'm ready!" answered Mr McKeithan firmly.

Healer Troovus gave Mr McKeithan the infusion.

"Forgot to say," he said before Mr McKeithan began to drink. "This stuff is quite nasty."

"Cheers!" said Mr McKeithan, raising his cup. "To my recovered vision!"

He drank all of it in one shot, grimaced in disgust, and gave back the empty cup to the Healer.

"Now, sir, lay down and I'll check on you in an hour," said the Healer, departing with the empty cup.

"Mr McKeithan, I didn't know you were in the military," said Harry after a few minutes of silence. "I didn't know you went to war."

"Oh yes, Harry! I was in the military," he said. "I was young at the time: twenty years old. I can only imagine the look of surprise on your face.

"Yes, Harry, I'm that young, I'm only 29. Life has not been kind to me after the war. I was 20, with a beautiful wife at home and a 2-year old baby. I had a nice income as a soldier and we lived on a military base. Times were good and, of course, I thought I was invincible.

"But the world as I knew it ended on the second of January, 1991, one month before my 21st birthday. We were ambushed, you see, while delivering supplies to an advance post. My best friend who was sitting next to me in the cab received a bullet to the forehead and two other members of my platoon were gunned down, right in front of my eyes. To this day, I wonder how I survived the attack. Eventually a shell hit our truck and I was thrown from it. I woke up three days later in a hospital bed without half my leg.

"I think, Harry, you and I have this in common: we've both seen the horrors of war."  
"You know?" asked Harry surprised.

"Of course, I know," said Mr McKeithan. "Connor wrote to tell us all about it. You're his hero, you know. Of course, he only related it in glorious ways, like an eleven year old sees it, but I've been there so I know. He also told us what you told them in the Common Room. He said he has never been so proud to be a Gryffindor in his life. Now, if you don't mind my asking, what is a Gryffindor? He's been talking a lot about Gryffindor but he never quite told us."

Harry explained the concept of the Houses, their historical origins, and the interaction between each of them. Harry also told him about his fears that the Slytherins would continue to be singled out and what it could mean for the school unity and the future of the wizarding world.

"I told them they should befriend the Slytherins but I don't know if I reached them," concluded Harry.

"I think you underestimate yourself," said Mr McKeithan, chuckling. "Connor has told me about a Lena MacNair and a Theo Goyle, apparently from this Slytherin House. He said his friend Gregory and he are becoming quite good friends with those two, and he wishes he could spend his breakfast and lunch time with them. He said something about House tables making mixing with the others a little difficult."

Harry had never thought of that before. He would have to talk to Professor McGonagall about it.

Mr McKeithan took a sharp intake of breath and he grimaced in pain. He had began to sweat profusely. Healer Troovus came into the room and put ointment and a bandage over Mr McKeithan's eyes.

"How are you feeling, Mr McKeithan?" he asked.

"Not bad so far," answered Mr McKeithan. "Young Harry here is keeping me distracted."

"Courageous man," said Healer Troovus, leaving them again.

"So, Harry, tell me, if I may ask, how old are you? Mary seems to think you cannot be a day over twenty and judging by your voice, I would agree."

"I'm nineteen, sir," answered Harry.

"So young and you've seen war already," said Mr McKeithan sadly. "How are the dreams, Harry?" he asked.

"How do you know about the dreams, sir?" asked Harry, surprised by the older man's insight.

"I have them too," he answered with another chuckle. "Oh, not as much as I used to. I found that talking about them and the war helps. What about you?"

"I seem to have them a lot, sir," he answered. "When I'm with Ginny I don't have them at all but when I'm not they tend to come back after a few days."

"Do you have dreams like Connor, too?"

Harry knew Mr McKeithan meant prophetic dreams.

"No, not like him. Connor is a very special case. I think he's a Seer, and if he is, he is the first real one in a very, very long time. Seers like him are extremely rare."

"He always dreamt about the smallest little things," said Mr McKeithan, smiling fondly. "Just try to surprise him on his birthday! He would always know what we had got him!"

Mr McKeithan winced in pain.

"Are you all right, Mr McKeithan?"

"Oh, yes! What's a little pain compared to seeing again?"

Harry spent the entire day with Mr McKeithan, holding him up when he was too weak to lean forward to empty his stomach into a bucket Healer Troovus had provided, and putting a wet cloth on his forehead. Harry could not miss school for the rest of the week so Ginny agreed to spend the next day with Mr McKeithan and Malda agreed to come on Friday.

By Saturday morning, Mr McKeithan felt a lot better, even though he was still pale and looked exhausted. Ginny and Harry brought Mrs McKeithan to the hospital with them.

"Mary?" asked Mr McKeithan when they entered the room. "Mary, is that you?"

There was as much wonder in his eyes as there was in his voice. Mrs McKeithan walked to the bed with a look of pure joy on his face.

"Paul? Paul, you can see?" she asked, sitting on the bed next to him.

His eyes, which had previously been a whitish blue, were now a clear dark brown.

"Yes! Oh, you are so, so beautiful Mary," he said, taking her face in his hands and kissing her tenderly.

Harry looked at Ginny with a smile, and she put her head on his shoulder, taking his hand in hers.

"And you must be Harry," said Mr McKeithan, looking at Harry. "And this beautiful young lady must be Ginny."

"Yes, sir," answered Harry with a smile. "When did they remove the bandages?"

"This morning," answered Mr McKeithan, looking at his wife lovingly again. "The Healer said I have to stay here until tomorrow and take that horrible medicine for another ten days but it is well worth it!"

And Mr McKeithan became absorbed with his wife again, touching her face with complete delight.

"We'll leave you two to catch up," said Harry, walking to the door with Ginny.

Harry, however, doubted they realized they had gone.

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	17. Chapter 16 The Unexpected Request

Thank you to all who has read my story. I do not own anything except the OCs. Potterverse is all JKR.

Enjoy!

CHAPTER 16 – The Unexpected Request

"Before I begin with the announcements, are there any concerns we need to address?" asked Professor McGonagall.

It was Thursday night, right after dinner, and the staff was having their weekly meeting. Following his discussion with Mr McKeithan the week before regarding Connor and his friends from other Houses, Harry had spoken to Hermione and they had agreed it should be brought up with the other teachers.

"Professor McGonagall," began Harry, "Hermione and I would like to bring up seating arrangements for breakfast and lunch."

"Seating arrangements?" she asked, frowning.

"Yes! You see, the way the tables are set, they are not very conductive to fraternization between the Houses," began Harry, searching for the right words to get his point across without offending anybody. "Last year, and it can be seen again this year, the Houses seemed to become even more recluse and the school divided, especially the Slytherins since most Death Eaters were from that House. Also, like the Sorting Hat had warned a few years ago, we think this division may eventually be the downfall of the school."

"These are serious words, Mr Potter," said Professor McGonagall.

"Yes, they _are_," said Hermione firmly. "While we think the House arrangement is crucial to the functioning of the school, we also think it's time to facilitate friendship between the Houses."

"That's where breakfast and lunch seating arrangements come into play," continued Harry. "We think that for breakfast and lunch, tables should be broken down in tables of 8, set all over the hall, including the teachers' table."

"We think students would be able to mingle more easily and it would give them more opportunities to get to know each other," said Hermione. "As it is right now, the only times you can meet people from other houses are during classes and breaktimes."

"This is a delightful idea, Minerva!" exclaimed Professor Slughorn.

Professor McGonagall looked at Harry and Hermione with the shadow of a proud smile on her lips.

"As Head of Slytherin, I support this wholeheartedly!" continued the Professor.

"But traditions," said Professor Sinistra. "What about traditions?"

"We've been following traditions for years and look where it almost got us!" exclaimed Professor Slughorn. "The Sorting Hat has warned us about splitting the students into Houses and we just 'followed traditions' with, I might say, near disastrous consequences."

"Our plight was years in the making, I do agree," said Professor Flitwick. "One has to wonder if that pure-blood nonsense would have taken such deep roots if students were allowed to mingle more easily. I think it's high time we rethought our traditions."

"I agree," said Professor Sprout. "I think we should vote on it."

"Let's vote, then," said Professor McGonagall.

The majority of the staff supported the idea.

"Good! It will be announced to the students tomorrow night at dinner and will be implemented Saturday morning," announced Professor McGonagall. "Now, Mr Filch has reported seeing students lurking in the Forbidden Forest again. Hagrid," said Professor McGonagall, "would you know anything about this?"

As usual, most things to report were centred around Filch's numerous complains which were usually concerning people he didn't like. Even the professors themselves were not immune to his complains.

"Yes, Professor, Ma'am! They were sixth year students doing homework. They came by asking permission before going in, which I granted them as long as I could still see them from my house."

"Minerva," said Professor Slughorn. "Why do we keep Mr Filch on staff? He terrifies the students!"

Harry was yet to ask Hermione about the source of Professor Slughorn's particular dislike for Filch, which was the result of something that happened during the last school year. As a result, Professor Slughorn frequently questioned the wisdom of keeping Mr Filch on staff.

"Where would he go, Horace?"

This was the typical answer Professor McGonagall always provided.

"Well, maybe we should consider sending him to guard Azkaban," suggested Professor Slughorn slowly, as if the thought had just occurred to him.

This was a new development in their regular verbal exchange, and everybody was now staring at either Professor Slughorn or Professor McGonagall.

"Well," said Professor McGonagall with an amused smile. "As certain as I am that Mr Filch would be a perfect fit for Azkaban, let me give this matter further considerations. Anything else?"

"Professor," hesitated Harry. "I would like to teach the N.E.W.T.s students to resist the Imperius curse."  
While the Death Curse and the Torture Curse had remained illegal after the fall of Voldemort's puppet government, it hadn't been the case with the Imperius curse. During the war, the Imperius Curse had been utilized by both sides and the Ministry had hesitated to prosecute Harry and Professor McGonagall, among others, who had used it during the war. After many long debates, the Wizengamot had decided that the curse per se was not the problem but the intent behind it was. Despite the Wizengamot's decision, its usage was highly frowned upon and users were required to fill a report with the Ministry explaining why the curse had been used and what had been done to the controlled party. Failing to do so would result in prosecution from the Ministry.

Reactions to Harry's suggestion were as varied as there were teachers in attendance. While Hermione stared at him in surprise, Professors Vector and Babbling were outraged.

"Minerva, you can't allow this!" protested Professor Vector. "Hogwarts has never done such a despicable thing!"

"Actually, that's not entirely true," said Professor Sprout slowly. "Professor Moody did teach it."

"He was an imposter!" exclaimed Professor Babbling.

"An imposter who saved my life!" retorted Harry. "Had he not taught me how to resist it, you would likely still be teaching in a school run by Death Eaters!"

"Professor McGonagall," said Professor Filtwick quietly. "I see the wisdom in Professor Potter's suggestion. I think teaching the students how to recognize its effect and how to fight it may prove beneficial in the future."

Harry was not surprised that Professors Flitwick and Sprout support his idea as they knew about the bewitched student.

"I, for one, do not like it. But I have to agree with Professor Flitwick," said Professor Slughorn. "However, I would recommend we proceed with care. The last thing we want is to see students bewitching one another."

"I agree," said Professor McGonagall. "Those in favour of Professor Potter teaching the Imperius curse to the N.E.W.T.s students, raise your hand… Those opposed… Well, Professor," she said, turning to Harry. "It seems you may get your wish. We will meet with the Head of Houses to decide the details of how it should be done and I will ask permission to the Ministry and the Board of Governors. Anything else?"

Nobody had anything so they were dismissed.

"Why didn't you tell me you were going to ask that?" asked Hermione, turning to Harry.

"I didn't know," he answered.

"You didn't know?" she exclaimed.

"No. It only occurred to me when Professor Slughorn spoke of Azkaban."

"Harry, you never ceased to amaze me."

"Mr Potter, Miss Granger?" called Professor McGonagall. "A word in private, please?"

Harry and Hermione followed Professor McGonagall to her office.

"Wake up, all of you!" said Professor McGonagall to the paintings on the walls, all of which were pretending to sleep. "Starting Saturday morning, students at Hogwarts will no longer be having breakfast and lunch at tables divided by Houses. The tables will be broken down and students will be allowed to sit with whomever they wish."

It was obvious to Harry that Professor McGonagall was enjoying herself immensely. The reactions from the portraits were as amusing as they were diverse. About half of them were opposed while the other half thought it was about time. Harry looked at Dumbledore's portrait which was smiling at him broadly.

"Shall we assume, Minerva," he said over the clamour, effectively bringing silence to the room, "that this wonderful idea comes from our young friends, here?"

"No wonder!" said Phineas Black. "Only a muggle born could have come up with such an idea!"

Harry was about to protest that it was his idea but Dumbledore beat him to it.

"I doubt it's the case, Phineas. I believe this is young Harry's idea and Miss Granger just went along…"

"Of course, who else than _Potter_," spat Snape's portrait.

"And may I remind you, Phineas," continued Dumbledore, ignoring the interruption, "that young Harry _is_ your great great nephew and _has_ as much Black blood in his veins as Narcissa Malfoy?"

Harry frowned, not certain Dumbledore's claim was true while Phineas Black left his portrait, miffed.

"I _am_ so very proud of you!" said Professor McGonagall to Harry and Hermione with a sincere smile. "All the minds who ever sat in this room never thought of such a simple compromise, which will go a long way towards reuniting the school might I add. And it took two young Gryffindors to come up with such a wonderful idea! If I had ever had any children, I wish they would have been just like you!"

Harry and Hermione looked at her astonished. Never before had they heard Professor McGonagall praise people so, nor talk about having children of her own.

"Thank you," said Hermione.

"I do wish you would consider staying next year," she said. "I knew having you with us this year would not only take care of our bewitched student problem but would also bring some well needed new perspectives. Now, if you don't mind me asking, how did you come up with such a wonderful idea?"

"I can't take any credit, really," said Harry. "Connor McKeithan's father was telling me how Connor would like to spend more time with his new Slytherin friends…"

"What?" exclaimed a portrait behind him. "Gryffindors and Slytherins? Friends?"

All the portraits began talking at once, Phineas included, as he was too curious to have stayed away for long.

"This is a revolution!" exclaimed another portrait. "Who could have imagined?"

"Apparently Harry did," said Dumbledore with a chuckle. "Harry, be so kind and tell them what you said in the Gryffindor common room three weeks ago."

Harry told them.

"So young, and yet so wise," said Dumbledore with a twinkle in his eyes. "I think we should all learn from youth."

That night, as he made his way to his quarters, Harry wondered why everyone thought it was such an exceptional idea.

At dinner on Friday night, the news was received with mixed emotions by the students, however, on Saturday morning, while he was making his way through the Great Hall in search of a place to sit, he was happily surprised to see more than one mixed table, and, among them, Connor, Gregory, and their two Slytherin friends. Not only were the students enjoying this new setting but so were the teachers. Professor Slughorn was sitting at a table in the middle of the Hall, surrounded by students of every House. And to Harry's great surprise, so were Professor McGonagall, Professor Sprout and Professor Flitwick. It seemed as if the teachers had become a rally point from which students could experiment with mixing with others.

Harry sat at an empty table and a few minutes later, he was surrounded by students from every House, including a shy second year Slytherin.


	18. Chapter 17 The First Quidditch Game

A/N: Hello all! Sorry I haven't been around for a while. As usual, JKR owns everything except my OCs. And thanks to my beta, ZephyrDragon for her help! Enjoy

CHAPTER 17 – The First Quidditch Game

Saturday afternoon was bright and sunny, and Harry could not have hoped for better weather to attend, as he usually did, the Gryffindor Quidditch team practice. The game against Ravenclaw was only a week away and from what he could see, Harry was confident his team had a good chance at winning. A fair number of past Gryffindor students had responded to his owls and confirmed they would be attending the game. Most of the Burrow players had said they would come, along with the entire Holyhead Harpies and Puddlemere United teams. Harry was very excited that his idea of a fundraiser would bring such a crowd, and he hoped it would result in an important contribution towards the depleted school fund.

He was sitting away from the other spectators, smiling at a particularly good move by the Keeper, when he felt someone approached and sit next to him. Harry turned, expecting Hermione, and was surprised to see Dennis Lewison, the sixth year Hufflepuff Keeper, instead. Dennis reminded Harry of Cormac McLaggen with his self assured and arrogant manners. At the beginning of the school year, Dennis had told all who would listen that he was a better duellist than Harry. Harry had overheard him, and chose him as a duelling partner in their next lesson to illustrate some of the theory he had just taught. Dennis had rapidly found himself on his back, having been hit by two curses he was supposed to be blocking. Angry, he had jumped to his feet and started throwing offensive spells at Harry. Harry blocked them all – or at least, the ones that did not go astray – and, once Dennis was panting with exhaustion, out of ideas as to what he could do next, Harry had turned to the class.

"That was a great display of offensive spells which you could use in an attack against a Dark Wizard. Good job, Dennis. However the lesson was for you to block attacks, not to conduct them."

Everybody had laughed and Dennis hadn't claimed to be better than Harry at anything since.

Looking at this boy that he frankly disliked, Harry wondered why he had come to sit next to him.

"You played Seeker, didn't you, Professor?" he asked after a few moments of silence.

"Yes," answered Harry, watching the Chasers practice another manoeuvre.

"What do you think of this one?" Dennis asked, pointing at the Gryffindor Seeker.

"She's very good," answered Harry about the seventh year who was slowly flying around the field, looking for the snitch.

"I tried Seeker," said Dennis lightly. "Couldn't manage it. Don't have the eye, nor the patience," he added with a shrug. "I'm more of an 'in the middle' kind of guy… I think Seeker can be rather lonely."

Harry silently agreed, thinking about the time in his third year when the Dementors had come after him while he was chasing the snitch.

"Besides, there's no point denying it: I'm a good Keeper. Best of the school, last year. Didn't let more than 10 goals in all season…"

Harry knew this could not be true as Ravenclaw had won the House Cup and Gryffindor had finished second.

"… Our Seeker, however, really needs replacing. He makes us all look bad," continued Dennis in his infuriatingly imperious tone. "I need a good team this year in order to be recruited into the National league, or the world one, of course," he added, as if he captained the team, which he did not.

Harry had never seen Dennis play but he doubted the youth was good enough to join a professional team.

"Why are you not pursuing a professional career, Professor?" asked Dennis curiously.

"It's not my calling," answered Harry, continuing to watch the practice.

"You'd rather teach?" asked Dennis astonished.

"You could say that," answered Harry vaguely.

"I saw in the Daily Prophet that you're going out with Ginny Weasley. She's in the Holyhead Harpies, right?"

Harry had to remind himself he was now a teacher and he was talking to a student. He chose not to answer rather than lose his temper with the youth.

"She was an alright player last year," continued Dennis, even though Harry hadn't answered. "How does she do with the Harpies? Is she any good?"

"Yes," answered Harry shortly, wondering whether Dennis would get the message that he wanted to be left alone.

"You're Committed?" asked Dennis, pointing at Harry's ring.

Harry didn't answer. This was definitely none of Dennis' business.

"Is your ring a family heirloom?"

"No," answered Harry shortly again.

"That's strange," said Dennis. "I thought wizarding families were protective of their family heirlooms and that the same rings were passed from one generation to the next."

Harry was getting increasingly annoyed by the conversation. Dennis was prying into things that did not concern him. Harry was not in the habit of discussing is 'haves' and 'have nots' nor was he inclined to speak about them.

"There were no rings in the Black vault which befitted the occasion," provided Harry, hoping his answer would be enough to satisfy Dennis' curiosity. "As for the Potter vault, my parents' rings didn't fit our purpose either."

"How did they look, those rings?" insisted Dennis, despite Harry's tone.

"Mostly Black coats of arms and…" he began to answer then turned to look at Dennis. "Why would you care what the Black and Potter rings look like?" asked Harry as politely as he could manage, reminding himself again that he was talking to a student.

"Rings are a passion of mine, especially old family rings," he answered, looking at his fingers nonchalantly. "I would collect them if I could afford them, but I don't have the Black or Potter fortune at my disposal. Did you know Jocelyn MacArthur's family has a ring that belonged to Slytherin himself? Very impressive things, rings, really… So the Black rings have the coat of arms on them. What about the Potter's?"

"Dennis, if you don't mind, I'd like to concentrate on the Quidditch practice now," said Harry dismissively.

Dennis seemed to hesitate a moment, surprised to find himself dismissed, than left with a smug smile on his face. He was replaced a few seconds later by Hermione and Ron.

"What was that all about?" asked Ron, looking at the retreating back of Dennis.

"Do you remember Cormac McLaggen?" asked Harry.

"Yeah," answered Ron with a disgusted expression.

"Same sort of thing," said Harry, indicating Dennis.

"At least, he has the looks," said Hermione lightly.

"Don't tell me you fancy that git?" said Ron.

"Ron!" she exclaimed. "He's a student!"

"Don't mean you don't fancy him," said Ron.

"Get over yourself, Ronald Weasley!" she said, punching him in the arm. "How can you think I would fancy a student?"

"Well, I don't know. He looked at you funny!"

"You're impossible!"

Harry, amused by his friends' verbal exchange, turned his attention back to the Quidditch practice and forgot all about Dennis Lewison.

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Harry was nervous. He felt like he was about to play the game and not just watch it. He looked around at the growing crowd, impressed by the size of it. Luckily, in anticipation of the bigger attendance, Professor Flitwick had enlarged the stands to three times their normal size.

In preparation for the event, Hermione had put together a student committee of representatives from each House. It was decided that each House would knit scarves and create other accessories in their team colours to be sold during the games. The Ravenclaws and Gryffindors had worked tirelessly to produce the necessary items which were sold at two kiosks, one for each team, set up along the path between the school gates and the pitch. Excited by the idea of helping the school, the house-elves had volunteered to sell food and were set up at their own stall. The student committee had also contacted businesses to lease them a space and a few of them, intrigued by the novelty of the idea, had accepted the offer. The Wheezes was one of these vendors and, in addition to paying for their leased space, George and Ron had gone the extra step of promising to donate all their profits to the school fund. They had announced their intent with a big banner in bright orange and blue letters, effectively shaming the other vendors who hadn't elected to do the same.

Instead of selling tickets, the committee had decided to let people give what they felt like giving. A group of students were manning the donation desk which was set just at the entrance to the pitch, and the fundraising was going full speed ahead. Harry, conscious of being an example since the Gryffindors were playing, had contributed an hundred galleons from his own coffers. He had been happy to learn that while most people did not have his fortune, Gryffindor graduates were as generous as they could be.

With Hermione and Ron by his side, he walked towards the pitch.

"Exciting, isn't it?" said Hermione, looking around at the gathering crowd.

She was wearing red and gold like Ron and Harry. Harry remembered how Ginny had told him he needed to be as neutral as possible, but he couldn't… not today at least.

"Don't you lot look lovely," said Ginny from behind them, as if summoned by Harry's thoughts.

Harry turned around and saw her. She looked prettier than ever with her long red hair shining in the sun.

"Ginny," he said, with a smile he hoped conveyed all his joy at seeing her.

He took her hand and kissed her on the forehead.

"I see that you seem to have forgotten all about impartiality," she said with an amused smile.

Ginny herself was wearing Gryffindor's colours.

"Well, I'm Head of Gryffindor," said Harry. "It won't do to see me wear the Ravenclaw colours, no would it?"

"What brought you, Ginny?" asked Hermione. "You hadn't told me you were coming."

"You didn't tell her I was coming?" asked Ginny to Harry.

"Forgot," answered Harry with a smile at her.

"Well, the fundraising for one thing, and also because I've come to write about the game," she answered Hermione. "The Daily Prophet told me that if tomorrow is a slow news day, they may consider publishing my report of the game on the first page, if it is any good.

"Besides, my entire team is here," she added, turning towards Harry. "And it gave me the occasion to spend some time with Harry."

"Well, don't mind us!" said Ron, shortly. "We'll pretend we're part of the décor."

"Ron! Get a grip! Harry and I are Committed! You'll have to get use to the idea that your little sister and your best friend are not only dating but they're sleeping together!" Ginny hissed at Ron.

Harry, who had the impression this argument had been going on for quite some time, felt himself blush as red as a Weasley while Hermione suddenly found an interest in her left shoe. As for Ron, he was staring at his sister his mouth hanging open. Harry was relieved to see that none of the students had been close enough to hear his fiancée.

"The game is about to begin. Why don't we go get seats?" he suggested, trying to break the stand still.

He walked into the stadium, pulling Ginny behind him.

"Sorry," she whispered to his ear. "I didn't mean to embarrass you. He's been really annoying lately."

"You didn't embarrass me, exactly," said Harry, chuckling. "Surprised me would be more like it."

She grinned at him, her eyes shining with mischief.

"Have I told you I love you today?" he asked, leaning towards her ear.

"No, you haven't" she answered.

"I love you, Ginevra Molly Weasley," he said, kissing her temple.

"I love you, Harry James Potter," she answered, smiling at him.

"You two! Get a room!" said Ron, still annoyed by what Ginny had said to him.

Ginny was about to retort but Harry stopped her with a pull on her hand. They had just reached the section where most of the staff were seated and it was not the time to get into an argument, especially not with personal undertones.

"You're lucky, Ron Weasley!" hissed Ginny, when they emerged into the teachers' area.

The two of them made a point of sitting on either side of Harry and Hermione, effectively cutting any further discussion. Ginny retrieved a quill and parchment to document the game, pointedly ignoring Ron who was finding the crowd on his left highly interesting.

"Siblings!" said Hermione, rolling her eyes, and Harry nodded his agreement.

"Good morning everybody," said Professor McGonagall, her voice augmented by a Sonorus Charm. "Thank you all for attending the first Hogwarts Quidditch match of the year. We hope you enjoy your day and will return to attend the rest of our games this year.

"Before we begin, I have an announcement to make. This year, the winner of the House Cup will have the chance to test themselves against a selected team of professional players which will be put together by vote of the student body and will be captained by our very own Harry Potter."

Hermione had approached the Burrow players the previous weekend, and all had agreed and were delighted to play against the winning team if it meant improving the school financial situation. Viktor, having a previous engagement on the selected date for the game, had to excuse himself and Harry had been nominated captain of the team. Since all the players wanted to participate, it was decided the students should choose who would be on the team.

"This match will take place in June and we hope you will attend in great numbers," continued Professor McGonagall, once the cheers had died down. "With that, let the match begin!"

And the game began. If Harry thought he was nervous when he was playing, it was nothing compared to watching this game. He spent the rest of the morning, the entire afternoon and the better part of the evening on the edge of his seat. It was getting dark and the sun had sunk low on the horizon when the Gryffindor Seeker finally caught the snitch, making the game one of the longest Harry had ever witnessed. Gryffindor won with 570 points to 420.

"Wow! That was a great game!" said Ron, excitedly.

Professor McGonagall made her way towards them.

"Mr Weasley, Miss Weasley, since it's fairly late, Hogwarts would like to invite you to stay for dinner," she offered. "We could use a little celebration," she added, looking pointedly at Ron.

"Why was she looking at me like that?" asked Ron once she was gone.

"I think she had fireworks in mind, Ron," said Hermione with a smile.

"Oh! Yeah, Right! I'll have to go see if there are any left at the stall. I'll meet you in the Great Hall," he said and left.

"I have to go, too," said Ginny. "I want to interview some of the players. See you at dinner?" she asked Harry.

"Yeah!" he said, kissing her forehead.

Harry watched her leave for the Ravenclaw locker room.

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Harry walked into the Great Hall for breakfast the next morning to find the students excitingly looking at the newspaper.

"What's going on?" he asked Hermione, taking a seat next to her.

Hermione gave him her copy of the Daily Prophet.

'_Hogwarts Quidditch: A game you should not have missed, By Ginny Weasley'_ read the title on the front page, above a photo of each team.

_Yesterday, Hogwarts was the scene of one of its best Quidditch games in years. The spectacular game, which lasted 6 hours and 42 minutes, let us witness the skills of two extraordinary teams: Gryffindor and Ravenclaw._

And the article went on, retelling the game, giving equal credit to the skills of both teams, concluding with a summary of the fundraising activities and results. In addition, the inside pages of the Prophet included the picture and statistics of each player, supplemented by quotes.

"Professor Potter," asked the fifth year Hufflepuff boy named Terry, who was sitting in front of him. "Isn't Ginny Weasley the girl who was sitting next to you at the game? Isn't she a Holyhead Harpy?"

Harry felt himself blush and Hermione looked at him amused.

"Yes," answered Harry and even to him, he sounded just like a shy teenager boy who had just admitted he had been kissing a girl.

"Oh! Dear Merlin!" exclaimed the fifth year Ravenclaw girl named Jen, who was sitting next to him. "She's your girlfriend!"

Harry grinned at her without providing an answer. He was surprised that despite the article by Rita Skeeter in the Daily Prophet during the summer, not everyone seemed to know about his love life.

"You didn't know they're dating?" asked a fifth year Hufflepuff girl named Lauriann, to Jen. "It was in the newspaper last summer."

"Yeah, but it was written by Rita Skeeter," said Jerry, a Gryffindor third year. "Who would believe anything coming out of her quill?"

"Professor," said Lauriann to Hermione. "Isn't Ginny Weasley your boyfriend's sister?"

"Oh, yes," answered Hermione and to Harry's dismay, it seemed completely natural for Hermione to be talking about her boyfriend. "She is."

As they were walking back to their classroom, Harry turned to Hermione.

"Your students know about you and Ron?"

"Of course," answered Hermione with an amused smile. "Can you think of a funnier example of what _not_ to do in the muggle world?" she asked, laughing.

Harry had to concede, she had a point.

By dinner time, everybody in the school knew that Ginny Weasley was Harry's girlfriend.


	19. Chapter 18 Unforgivable Curses

A/N: To all of you who left me comments: thank you! I read them all. And I also visit your profiles, along with the profiles of all who had my story to their favourite.

My dear beloved beta ZephyrDragon is now so busy with her life that I have decided to move on. For this chapter, she has betaed but so did my new beta Arpad Hrunta. Arpad has also betaed my next two stories, believe it or not, and I absolutely love him!

So, hope you enjoy!

CHAPTER 18 – Unforgivable Curses and a School Treat

Harry's sixth- and seventh-year N.E.W.T. students were waiting for him in the seventh floor corridor, in front of the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy. They were all intrigued by the change of class schedule for the next three weeks, during which they would be receiving a total of four hours of Defence Against the Dark Arts a week in a combined sixth- and seventh-year N.E.W.T class. They were also intrigued as to why they were waiting for Harry outside the Room of Requirement, through which most of them had escaped the school two years earlier.

Harry arrived and strode past the wall three times thinking about his need for a classroom big enough to house fifty NEWTs students. He finally stopped and opened the door which had just appeared, his students following him through. Once they were all seated, he looked at them seriously.

"Good morning!" he began, handing a register out to the first student but not releasing it. "Most of you must be very intrigued by the change of schedule. For the next three weeks you will be receiving 4 hours of Defence Against the Dark Arts a week, and your other classes are temporarily rescheduled to the evening for those of you who have conflicts. The good news is that for the next three weeks, you won't be getting any Defence homework."

His words were greeted by cheers from the students who were looking at one another with happy smiles.

"Now, before I begin, I want you to understand something," he added, seriously. "If any of you, and I mean any of you, use what I'm going to teach you in the next three weeks, you _will _be caught and you _will_ be expelled. There will be no excuses and no second chances on this. Am I making myself clear?"

Some of the students muttered their agreement.

"I didn't hear you!" said Harry loudly.

"Yes, Professor!" answered the students.

"Now, there is a register here, which I will pass around the classroom for you to sign. I'm telling you right now: it is jinxed. If you use what I will teach you before you graduate from this school, you _will_ turn green and we _will_ find you. Make no mistakes: I am very serious about this, and so is Professor McGonagall... If you think you cannot control yourselves, I would invite you to leave this classroom right now.

"Also, while this will not be in your actual N.E.W.T.s, Headmistress McGonagall, the other teachers, and I have agreed that it is important for you to learn about this. You won't need your books, only your quill and a piece of parchment," he added to the students who had begun to retrieve their books from their bags. "Before we begin, I want to see all of you sign the register," he added, releasing the piece of paper for the first student to sign.

Harry patiently supervised the signature of each student.

"Now, who can tell me what the three Unforgivable Curses are?" he asked, once everybody had signed and he had put the register away in his bag.

Some students stared at one another while others raised their hand tentatively. Harry pointed to a sixth-year Slytherin boy.

"The Killing Curse, the Cruciatus Curse, and the Imperius Curse, sir," he answered.

"Yes," said Harry. "Now, what happens to someone who uses any of these against another person?"

"A one way trip to Azkaban, sir," answered a seventh-year Hufflepuff boy.

"What is so horrible about these curses?"

"There are no counter-curses, sir," answered another seventh-year Hufflepuff boy. "If the killing curse hits you, you just die."

"Yes," said Harry. "Now, how many of you have seen the killing curse being used?"

Not surprisingly, about a third of the class had seen it during the war.

"The only way to save yourself is to duck," said Harry. "And it's not easy."

"But sir, you survived it," said a sixth-year Ravenclaw girl, hopefully.

"Yes, I did," answered Harry. "However, I'm the only one in recorded history who did. And the reason I survived was because somebody, in my case my mum, sacrificed herself out of love so I could live. By doing so, she invoked a very old magic - the magic of love.

"Now, could it work again if somebody was to sacrifice themselves out of love for you? It may. However, how many of us would chance it? I certainly wouldn't!"

Some of the students chuckled.

"Now, in the next few classes, you will come wearing your oldest clothes and I will be throwing green paint at you. You will be trying to duck my projectiles. This will help you with not only the death curse but pretty much any other offensive spells.

"Now, I think most of you have witnessed the torture curse, right?"

"Yes, sir," answered some of the students.

"And I think some of you were on the receiving end of it."

Some students looked at one another uncomfortably while others stared at their desk.

"I have been on the receiving end of it myself," said Harry, breaking the uncomfortable silence. "There is no counter-curse for it either and honestly, other than ducking, you have to suck it up. However, do know that you will most likely survive it.

"Don't worry, I won't use the torture curse on you," he added with a smile.

"Have you ever used it, sir?" asked a sixth-year Ravenclaw shyly.

"Yes," answered Harry seriously.

Harry saw no point in lying to them. He thought the truth was always better when dealing with such serious matters.

"I have used both the torture and the controlling curses," he said. "Now, you have to understand that even in extreme circumstances these should not be used at all. I hope I will never have to use the torture curse _ever _again. In order to use it, you need to _mean_ to hurt someone; to want and mean it very much. It _is_ a very dark feeling, a very evil feeling. I'm not perfect but I'm not an evil person either. Using the torture curse made me feel very good for a moment, as I used it against Amycus Carrow..."

Some students nodded gravely. They all knew Amycus Carrow and what he had done while teaching the Dark Arts.

"But it ended up making me feel very dirty," explained Harry. "Therefore, I do not want to use it again."  
"What about the Imperius curse, sir?" asked Astoria Greengrass, a seventh year Slytherin.

"That one, I'm going to teach you to resist it."

A few of the students gasped while others simply stared at him.

"Professor, do you mean you will cast it on us?" asked Astoria again.

"Yes, I will," answered Harry. "When I was in my fourth year, we had Professor Moody... Well, actually someone who pretended to be Professor Moody. Some of you may remember him. He taught me to resist the Imperius curse and consequently saved my life! So yes, I will be casting it on you, and you will try to resist it. However, I have to remind you again that if any of you is caught using any of the Curses, you will be expelled, and possibly sent to Azkaban depending on circumstances.

"Now, let's begin," said Harry. "I need a volunteer."

A sixth-year girl from Gryffindor raised her hand tentatively.

"Good, Alicia. Here is what I'm going to do. I'm going to cast the Imperius curse on you and I want you to see how it feels. I will ask you to write on the board 'I am a good Quidditch player'..."

This made everybody laugh, even Alicia, as they all knew she could not fly a broom to save her life.

"... and I want you to try to resist it, okay?"

She nodded.

"_Imperio_," said Harry. "Alicia, I want you to write 'I am a good Quidditch player' on the board one hundred times."

She started writing furiously. After about two minutes, Harry lifted the curse.

"So, Alicia, how did it feel?" asked Harry gently.

"Dreamy, warm, nice," answered the girl who was looking at her parchment surprised. "Like I was in a nice dream," she added, looking up at Harry.

"Did you try to resist?"

"I – I didn't want to," she answered, looking down at her desk ashamed.

"Exactly," said Harry to the rest of the class. "This is the chief danger of the Imperius curse. It makes you feel so good you just don't want to resist it. Some say only the strongest can resist but I think differently. I think if you know how to recognize it, you have a fighting chance to break it. So, who's next?"

Harry had quite a few more volunteers this time and started with the students in the front row. He made them all write lines on a piece of parchment which were not accurate such as 'my father is an elephant', 'I have swum at the bottom of the lake', and quite a few others. Most students could not resist the charm but one had shown some promise. A seventh-year Ravenclaw boy had shown some serious hesitation in writing his line which said 'my mother has four arms'. Everybody had applauded his noble efforts at resisting the curse. But the real surprise came when Harry tried to curse Dennis Lewison: he simply could not do it. After three attempts, Harry looked at Dennis frowning, and the rest of the class looked on worried.

"This _is_ strange," he said. "Dennis, have you been cursed before?"

"No, sir," answered Dennis, smiling smugly.

Of course, Dennis, being as arrogant as he was, saw this as a way to show the rest of the class that he was better than everybody else. However, nobody was applauding this time.

"Professor, why can't Dennis be cursed like the rest of us?" asked Alicia.

"I don't know, Alicia," answered Harry, still looking at Dennis. "But I _will_ find out."

After Dennis, only one other student showed any sign of resistance in writing his line on the second round of curses Harry made them go through.

"Enough for today," he said once he had gone through each student a second time. "Now, don't forget: no one is to use these curses.

"I will see you all tomorrow."

Still intrigued by his inability to curse Dennis Lewison, Harry followed his students out of the classroom and made his way to his office with the intention to discuss the matter with Hermione during lunch. When he arrived in his office, an owl was waiting on his desk and Harry took the letter, not recognizing the writing on the Muggle envelope. He opened it.

Dear Harry,

You are the first person I've written to since losing my vision 6 years ago. I wanted to take the time to tell you how wonderful life is since you gave me this incredible gift. First of all I have found work! I am working in a little repair shop down the street from our house. It doesn't pay much but it's enough for Mary to be able to cut one day off work a week. We are so much happier now. We get to spend the entire weekend together and, for the first time in 6 years, we will be able to buy Connor something very nice for Christmas. By the way, what do you buy a young wizard for Christmas? You will have to give us some ideas for this one.

Malda continues to come by. The first time she came after I got my vision back, she stayed hidden behind the sofa. She was afraid that if I saw how she looked, I wouldn't like her or the baby anymore. She only agreed to come out when I told her that if you liked her the way she looked, there were no reasons why I wouldn't. I have got to admit, it was somewhat of a shock. She is so incredibly skinny. And she explained to me why she wears those horrible clothes... But I think she is a great being and I love to have her around. I think she finds it hard that I now work as she can no longer spend every other day with me. But we know she comes around often as the house is always spotlessly clean and dinner often is ready when we arrive. Did I tell you she now knows how to use the electric stove? She thinks it is a ridiculous invention but she uses it nevertheless.

Harry, life is definitely looking up for us since you became part of our life, and we hope you and Ginny will visit us soon.

We look forward to seeing you again.

_Paul McKeithan_

Harry smiled, put away the letter, and left his office to go and meet with Hermione for lunch. He found her at one of the tables towards the front. He was early enough to get a seat next to her, which was unusual, since at lunchtime her table was always full of students.

"Harry!" she said with a smile. "What are you doing down for lunch so early?"

"I needed to talk to you," he said. "I need you to do some research for me."

Hermione's eyes lit up. Research meant the library and she had loved the library since her first day at Hogwarts.

"Yes?" she asked.

"I need to know what would make someone immune to the Imperius Curse," he said.

"What do you mean by immune?" she asked, frowning.

"Well, you remember Dennis Lewison," explained Harry. "He's in my NEWT class and I simply could not curse him. I tried three times and... nothing."

"This _is_ very strange," said Hermione. "I've never heard of this before."

"Neither have I," said Harry. "I heard of people breaking the curse but not of people unable to be cursed. Will you look into it?"

Harry knew she wouldn't pass such a challenge to learn something.

"Of course I will!" she exclaimed. "I'll let you know when I find something."

This issue being taken care of, Harry let it slip from his mind and enjoyed lunch with Hermione and the students.

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Harry, Hermione and Ron were already at the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch the next Sunday morning when Harry's regular teammates began to arrive through the front gates. As nobody could apparate directly into the school grounds, they all apparated into Hogsmeade and made their way to the pitch on foot, followed by the intrigued looks of the few Hogwarts students who were outside on the ground. Not surprisingly, Ginny was one of the first one to arrive.

"I'm glad you could reserve the pitch, Harry," she said. "I don't think my mum would have liked us at the Burrows while she wasn't there. Besides, it will be fun to play at Hogwarts again."

Harry had received an owl from Ginny on Friday evening telling him her parents would not be at the Burrow on Sunday. While Mrs Weasley hadn't forbidden them to go and play in her absence, Ginny knew her mother well enough to know that she wouldn't like to have people at her house while she wasn't there. Apparating directly onto the pitch was also out of the question since the wards installed during the war were still in place and only a few selected people could apparate on the Burrow's property limits and a little beyond.

On Saturday morning, Harry had checked the Quidditch pitch reservation schedule and, when he saw the field hadn't been reserved, had asked permission from Professor McGonagall to use it. She had agreed with an amused smile, telling him she had every intention to attend as it would be nice to see him playing again.

Sure enough, when all the players had arrived and were getting ready to start, Professor McGonagall was right there, sitting next to Lee Jordan and having an animated conversation with George Weasley. She was not alone. Professors Slughorn, Sprout and Flitwick were also in attendance, as were Hermione and a few students.

Ron blew his whistle and the game began. It was more intense than any of the games Harry had ever played. It seemed playing at Hogwarts had reinvigorated the former students who were on the teams. In addition, the news that Harry Potter and some professional Quidditch players were currently playing at the Quidditch pitch spread like wildfire, and less than 30 minutes after they began, the stands were full of students who were cheering any good play indiscriminately. Even Hagrid with his huge binoculars had come to see them.

It was one of their longest games yet. Harry finally caught the snitch just before dinner, causing his team to win by one hundred points. They had played for over five hours and Harry was famished, however it seemed the students were not ready to let them leave yet as they swarmed onto the field, trying to get autographs from their favourite players.

"A moment of silence, please?" asked Professor McGonagall, her voice amplified by a _Sonorus_ spell so she could be heard over the crowd. "As you can image, the players are certainly very tired and particularly hungry. Since tonight is our Halloween feast, and they were kind enough to entertain us for the better part of the day, I would like to invite them all to join us for dinner. Students will proceed inside immediately and we will give our guests some time to change and refresh themselves. We will begin the feast in an hour."

The students obeyed and left the players free to go shower and change in the prefect bathroom, which had been offered to them.

"I'll be in bad shape for tomorrow's practice," said Oliver Wood with a large grin as he was showering next to Harry.

"So will I," said Gregory Spivey, the Tutshill Tornadoes beater.

"Harry, explain to me why don't you play professionally? You're so good, you could easily play for England," asked Gordon Green who was a Beater for the England World Team.

"I agree," said Krum. "I would finally get the chance to face a worthy opponent at the World Cup."

"It's not what I am," said Harry, shrugging.

"You're mental, that's what you are!" said Ron.

They were still laughing when they made their way to the Great Hall to share dinner with the students.

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Harry arrived for breakfast, the next morning, and, as he walked in the Great Hall, all conversation ceased and everybody turned to stare at him.

"What now?" he mumbled.

He sat at a table by himself and a few seconds later, Connor and three of his friends walked to him.

"Is it true, Professor?" asked Gregory MacMillan, sitting across from Harry.

"Is what true, Gregory?" asked Harry.

Lena MacNair gave him her copy of the Daily Prophet. Lena was the niece of Death Eater Walden MacNair, and Theo Goyle was the younger cousin of Gregory Goyle, one of Harry's old school nemeses who had barely survived the Fiendfyre cast by his friend Crabbe. Both children did not adhere to their relative's views of Harry Potter and the war in general, and were desperate to prove they were not evil in any way, which a lot of students had assumed. Hanging out with Connor and Gregory, and having breakfast and lunch with Harry once in a while, had greatly improved the way the other students saw them, to their greatest delight and Harry's approval as he really like the two students.

Harry took the paper Lena had given him.

Harry Potter: Back to Quidditch? _By Lori Carlton_

After leaving the Ministry to teach at Hogwarts, Harry Potter's career moves may not be over. Harry Potter, age 19, was seen this past Sunday playing at Hogwarts with friends from the England/Ireland professional and the World league teams, including girlfriend Ginny Weasley from the Holyhead Harpies. Potter, on his brand new Skygrazer 100, showed his skills as a Seeker by beating none other than Viktor Krum, previously regarded the world's best Seeker, to the snitch in a spectacular dive.

A representative from the English National Team, who is in desperate need of a new Seeker, said in an interview that they would definitely look into this potential candidate...

Harry looked up without continuing. The children were looking at him in open admiration while Harry wondered who that Lori Carlton was, and how she had learnt about the game.

"That would make you the David Beckham of the wizarding world, wouldn't it?" asked Connor who didn't yet understand Quidditch very well.

Harry wondered if he should play professionally for a minute. Should he go for it, if they approached him? Suddenly, he really wanted to talk to Ginny.

"Lena, may I keep this?" he asked, standing up.

She nodded and, walking as fast as he could, he left the Great Hall. He went to the teacher's lounge and took the Floo Powder network to his house at Grimmauld Place.

Ginny was sitting at the table having breakfast and reading the newspaper when he appeared in the kitchen.

"I see you've read the paper," she said amused. "So, why are you here?" she asked.

"Ginny... should – should I?" he asked, starting to pace the kitchen in confusion. "I mean I'm good but..."

He let the rest of the sentence hanging in the air. She stood up and stopped him, taking both his hands in hers and staring into his eyes.

"Harry, calm down!" she said, surprised by his confusion. "Now, what do you really want?" she asked.

"I... I don't know," he answered. "I never seriously thought about playing Quidditch professionally. I always thought it wasn't my calling... I- I always thought I would fight evil and get the wizarding world rid of Dark Wizards."

"Then it seems pretty clear to me," she said, gently.

"But Quidditch? The National Team?"

"Yes. Quidditch. The National Team. So what, Harry? You could certainly make it and kick some serious arse, but is it really what you want to do, deep down inside? Is it really who you are?"

Harry looked down at their hands.

"Harry, the Quidditch we play on Sundays is far more fun than anything we do in the League, believe me. Besides, you're already known throughout the wizarding world, so you already _are_ a popular Quidditch player," she added with a smile.

He grinned back at her and kissed her deeply. He wanted to do so much more but he knew he didn't have time.

"I miss you," he said.

"Me too... but we will see each other on Sunday, right?"

"Yes," he answered.

"Now, go back to school so you can tidy up before class... It wouldn't do for your students to see you all dusty."

Harry grinned at her and took the Floo back to school.

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	20. Chapter 19 Harry versus Ginny

CHAPTER 19 – Harry Versus Ginny

Harry had wanted to go home on Saturday but it had been his patrol night, and he hadn't got away. It was now Sunday morning, and he was running so late he knew he wouldn't have time to talk to Ginny before the game, which disappointed him greatly. Finally ready, he took the Floo network to the Burrow, anxious to spend time with his friends, and to discuss the letter he had received from the England National Team with Ginny. Whoever this Lori Carlton was, she had been well informed since the Team had contacted him two days after the article.

When he arrived at the Burrow's pitch, everybody was waiting for him. The first thing he noticed was Ginny wearing a red uniform, and he frowned.

"I'm playing Seeker against you," she said with a radiant smile, as he walked to her. "Neither Viktor nor Charlie could make it."

Harry stared in surprise. It was the first time he had ever played against Ginny, let alone as a Seeker. He didn't know if he should be nervous or rejoice, but soon enough, he found Ginny was playing a more vicious game than Viktor or Charlie ever did. She used every weapon in her arsenal, including their relationship and, to Harry's dismay, his desire for her, in order to break his concentration and catch the snitch.

As their fight reached its climax, he finally saw the golden ball and dove for it. By that time, Harry's senses were on fire and he could no longer think in full sentences. The only thing his mind was telling him was 'Snitch! Catch! Defeat Veela!' And his Veela, with floating red hair, was diving for the snitch right alongside him, using every technique she could legally use, and some she may not have got away with in a professional match, to win the race.

They were getting close, very close, their hands were extended towards the golden ball and, with fierce determination, they were hurtling towards it. Harry didn't know how it happened but suddenly he was holding the snitch, Ginny's fist closed over his, rolling on the ground in a tangle of limbs with his lips locked to Ginny's in one of the most electrifying kisses he had ever shared with her. He growled low in his throat and the next thing he knew, they had apparated to their bed at 12 Grimmauld Place.

Before he even had time to formulate a coherent thought, he was on his back, Ginny had liberated his erection, torn off her own slacks and impaled herself on him. She moved up and down, moaning widely; her face lost to him as he had somehow lost his glasses. In less time than he would have thought possible, she came and, panting hard, felt on his chest, leaving him yet unsatisfied. With his feet flat on the bed, he moved hard and fast in her contracting wetness, and took his pleasure also. Spent both by the game and their wild lovemaking, he held her in his arms. As they lay there, panting, the snitch kept flying across the bedroom ceiling, from one end to the other.

"What... what happened?" asked Harry after a few minutes of silence.

"I never want to play Seeker against you, ever again!" she said, chuckling. "Trying to break your concentration is just too hard... Trying to turn you on like this had me so worked up, I would have had you an hour ago!"

Harry raised her face towards his and kissed her deeply.

"I want to have you again," he whispered and proceeded to slowly removing the rest of her clothes.

She helped him undress too, and once they were both naked, he made slow love to her.

An hour later, they were in the shower, still embracing and kissing. The shower lasted a lot longer than usual as they explored each other's body, giving one another even more pleasure.

They were dressed in Muggle clothes and ready to go when Harry turned to Ginny.

"Ginny?" he asked. "Have you seen my glasses?"

"I think we lost them on the pitch," she answered. "We'll have to go get them when we get back to the Burrow."

"Where's your wand?" he asked. "I left mine in the lockers."

"Well, mine is there too..." she answered slowly.

He looked at her in surprised.

"How did we...?" he asked.

"Let's say I had a very pressing need," said Ginny lightly, catching the flying snitch as it went by her head and giving it to Harry. "We'll have to use the Floo network."

Harry blushed at the thought of it.

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Harry and Ginny arrived at the Burrow right after dinner.

"Where have you been?" asked Ron, in a very good imitation of his mother, when they walked out of the house.

Everybody was still sitting at the long table out in the back garden. Without his glasses, Harry could not really see them but he could hear them. He was grateful Ginny was holding his hand as he was sure he would have embarrassed himself even more by tripping over something, not that he could be more embarrassed than he already was since everybody must know why they had left so quickly.

"Ron!" exclaimed Hermione.

The muffled laughs that followed confirmed Harry's suspicions and he blushed even more, as if it was at all possible.

"I caught the snitch," he said lightly into the silence, showing it to them.

Everybody began laughing and, realising how this could have been interpreted differently from what he meant, Harry felt his ears start to burn.

"We wondered," said Oliver Wood amused.

Ginny pulled Harry towards the table and they sat in empty chairs.

"Harry?" asked Hermione once the conversation had resumed. "Where are your glasses?"

Harry leaned towards her.

"At the pitch," he said quietly. "And so are our wands... You wouldn't happen to know where we disapparated from, would you?"

"Yes, I do," she said with an amused smile. "Let's go find them... and get your wands."

Hermione, Ginny, and Harry were walking towards the pitch when Ron caught up with them.

"Mate," he said as he fell into step next to Harry. "You two are never playing Seeker against each other ever again."

"Yeah," agreed Harry. "We figured as much."

"Ginny, Mum had a mighty fit when you disapparated without a wand," said Ron, turning towards his sister.

"Well, my three Ds were rather urgent," she said lightly.

"So, you're the one who did it," said Ron impressed. "Bloody Hell! How did you manage it?"

"To tell you the truth, I don't really know," she said sincerely. "I just wanted to be elsewhere very badly."

"Well, expect to hear an earful from Mum," said Ron. "She even gave me one... As if I know what's going on in your head! By the way, we put your broomsticks back in the lockers," added Ron. "They were halfway across the field from where you felt."

They went to the lockers to retrieve their wands and made their way to the field.

"Accio Harry's glasses," called Hermione, flicking her wand.

Harry's glasses flew to her hand. They were miraculously undamaged.

"Thanks, Hermione," he said when she gave them to him.

As Harry put them on, his stomach growled loudly, making them all laugh nervously.

"Do you think your mum is in a good enough mood to spare us some food?" Harry asked his best mate.  
"I don't know, Harry," answered Ron. "But better you ask her than me."

Mrs Weasley was in the kitchen, preparing them plates when Harry and Ginny found her.

"Ginny Weasley! Harry Potter! What were you thinking? Apparating without a wand!" she shrieked the minute the kitchen door was closed behind them.

"Mum, look on the bright side," said Ginny lightly. "If I ever have an urgent need to apparate without a wand, I can do it."

At that moment, Mr Weasley arrived at the front door. He had spent the day at the office as something urgent had come up that morning.  
"Is it true?" he asked, walking to Harry and Ginny with an amazed look on his face. "Is it true that you can apparate without a wand? Which one of you did it?" he asked, looking back and forth between the two.

"I did, Dad," said Ginny.

"Oh! Dear Merlin!" he said and hugged her. "I'm so very proud of you. Do you know how rare it is for a wizard to apparate without a wand? I think the only person I knew who could do it was Dumbledore."

"Arthur! She could have been killed! They both could have!" protested Mrs Weasley.

"Yes, Molly," he said, soothingly. "But do you realize what our little girl can do?" he said, smiling broadly and getting excited again.

Harry and Ginny looked at one another, curious to find out how Mr Weasley had known about their apparating without a wand.

"How did you do it, Ginny?" asked Mr Weasley.

"I had a pressing need," she answered. "How did you know anyway?"

"Why? Your mother sent me an owl, of course. So what type of need did you have that made you able to do such a wonderful thing?" asked Mr Weasley innocently.

Ginny turned so red, Harry thought she would melt. She looked at Harry for help.

"Eh! Let's say..." she turned and looked at her father squarely in the eyes. "It's between Harry and I, Dad."

It was Mr Weasley's turn to blush when he understood what she was referring to.

"I see," he said, looking anywhere but at them.

Harry could have sworn Mrs Weasley was smiling, amused at her husband's discomfort. Harry looked at Ginny, and they grinned at one another. Mrs Weasley put two plates of food in their hands.

"You better eat now, before you starve to death," she dismissed them.

Harry and Ginny, plates in hands, walked outside to join their friends.

"I finally received the letter from the National team," said Harry to Ginny between bites of his dinner.

"And?" asked Ginny.

"You did!" exclaimed Ron who was sitting across from them. "What did it say?"

"They want to meet with me," answered Harry with a shrug.

"So, when will you meet with them?" asked Ron excited.

Quite a few of their friends had stopped their conversations and were now listening to the exchange.

"I'm not," answered Harry.

Everybody gasped in surprise except for Ginny who looked at him with a proud smile on her face, and Hermione who nodded understandingly.

"You cannot not meet with them!" protested Ron.

"Harry, I've got to admit, I agree with Ron on this one," said Oliver Wood. "Everybody dreams of playing for the National Team."

"Don't you at least want to hear what they have to say?" asked Gordon Green worried.

He was playing for the England National Team and fully understood the team's need if they wanted a fighting chance at the World Cup.

"I'm sorry, guys," said Harry. "I prefer playing with you. Besides, Ginny reminded me the other day that I'm already world famous."

"I wish Viktor was here," said Grant Page from the Tutshill Tornadoes. "He would beat some sense into you."

Harry chuckled amused.

"I seriously doubt it," he said. "Quidditch is just not my thing."

"We know, we know," said Grant, shaking his head.

"I, for one, applaud your decision, Harry," said Hermione. "There are more important things in life than Quidditch."

Hermione's words were greeted by a deafening silence as all the players froze and looked at her. Ron subtly moved away from her, as if to distance himself from her words.

"Did I hear this right?" finally asked Gregory Spivey from the Tutshill Tornadoes.

"Maybe I shouldn't have said that," said Hermione with a small voice, looking at the staring Quidditch players.

"Hermione Granger!" exclaimed Ginny, throwing peas at her. "You should be ashamed of yourself to say such a thing in a room full of professional Quidditch players!"

"Sorry," said Hermione, shielding herself with her hands against an avalanche of small harmless objects being thrown at her by the others.

Everybody began to laugh.

"So Harry, you're really not going to try then?" asked Oliver, bringing the attention back to Harry.

"No, I'm not," he answered with a smile. "Unfortunately for them, I have other things to do."

Seeing there was no convincing him, the other players resumed their conversations and Harry returned to his dinner.

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Harry was sitting in the Quidditch stands watching the Gryffindor team practice the next Wednesday when Hermione joined him. He offered her a piece of his ever-warm charmed blanket and she covered herself with it, sitting close to him.

The sun had set about an hour before and the pitch was now magically lit. Even in the cold, Harry thought it was important for him to support the team by watching them practice.

"I wish we had had blankets like this when we were chasing students in the forest this morning," said Hermione.

Earlier in the day, she had helped Harry with his class by throwing spells at his N.E.W.T.s students. They had practised ducking when they heard a spell which began by _Avera,_ and deflecting or shielding all the others. Harry's green paint spell, _Avera Verderta,_ had been ideal for practising ducking since it almost sounded like the killing curse, and would leave a green stain if the student was unsuccessful_. _Some students had been surprisingly good at getting out of the way, and Harry could not help but be proud of them.  
"Who's helping you tomorrow?" asked Hermione.

"Professor McGonagall," answered Harry.

"Oh! That will be rather amusing," said Hermione, turning her attention back to the practice.

"You think I should play professionally?" asked Harry after a few seconds of silence, showing his constant questioning as to whether or not he had made the right decision in declining to meet with the England National Team.

"No, I don't think you should, Harry'" she answered honestly. "It may make you happy for a short while but not for long. It's just not who you are any more."

"Ginny said something similar," he said, smiling fondly at the thought.

"You do love her, don't you?" seriously asked Hermione to Harry whose attention had returned to the players.

"More than I've ever loved anyone," he said. "You? Ron?"

"Yes, I do," she answered. "But it's so complicated. We seem to be fighting all the time. Ron is so... susceptible."

"Does the ring help?" he asked, pointing at Hermione's golden band which she wore on her little finger.  
"Yes, it does... but why is he taking so long before asking me to Commit?"

"Don't know," answered Harry who was wondering the same thing.

"I wish he would wake up and ask me already," said Hermione, looking at the players. "You know, he's annoyed right now. I wonder what happened at the shop," she added, chuckling.

Harry looked at his ring, thinking of Ginny.

"I think she's bored right now," he said with a smile. "She's probably home wondering what to do."

"You know, she was pretty miserable last year," said Hermione after a few moments of silence. "She missed you horribly."

"I missed her, too," said Harry quietly.

"Why didn't you write to her more often?"

"At first, I couldn't. I was undercover. It took everything for me to even give her something for Christmas," said Harry sadly. "And I wasn't getting her answers. I think our charms were so powerful, the owls couldn't find us.

"Hermione," he said, turning to her, "I thought she had moved on. Who wouldn't want Ginny?"

"Yes, who wouldn't?" said Hermione. "Actually, a lot of guys did ask her out. And quite a few others made fun of her, telling her she was waiting for a ghost.

"Harry, your last letter made her cry for over a week. It was so cold and distant. And you know Ginny doesn't cry. She thought you didn't want her any more. That's why she stopped writing to you.

"Good thing Ron and I saw right through the two of you," she continued, turning her attention back to the practice. "I knew she still loved you because she told me. And I knew you still loved her because you were so miserable. Ron came up with the idea to bring you to the Cannons/Harpies game. By the way, you should thank him for that...

"He's funny about you two, you know," continued Hermione with a smile. "He does approve of your relationship because he thinks nobody else is good enough for Ginny. At the same time, he doesn't want you guys to get too intimate because he thinks she's still too young. He has to get a grip. Ginny's the same age we were when we began sleeping together."

"Too much information, Hermione!" said Harry, laughing at her.

"Come on! Don't tell me you think we don't sleep together! I mean you and Ginny certainly do, the way you disapparated last Sunday!"

"That was pretty... unexpected," said Harry, looking at his ring again.

But something suddenly started to stir in his mind, something that had nothing to do with Ron or Ginny. The more he looked at his ring, the more he thought he had missed something, something important, something...

"Hermione!" he exclaimed. "I know why I couldn't curse Dennis Lewison!"

"What? – Why? I haven't found anything useful yet," she said.

"Hermione, I couldn't curse him because he's already cursed!" explained Harry. "And I know what they're looking for: a ring, an old ring! That's why he came and asked me about the Black and the Potter rings. And I bet you anything that whatever ring they're looking for, they don't know where it is!"

Hermione became very still for a moment, with a concentrated look on her face, and Harry thought if she had had any quill and parchment, she would have taken notes.

"That makes sense," she said slowly. "I'll go see what I can find about rings."

Without another word, she left for the library.

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It was very early Saturday morning when a persistent knock at Harry's office door woke him up. As he became fully awake, he saw it was still dark outside. He grabbed his glasses, put them on, and turned on the light with a flick of his wand. He opened the door to find Gregory holding a crying Connor by the arm.

"What's wrong?" asked Harry, letting them in.

Connor stumbled towards Harry, and took refuge in his arms, crying harder. Harry put his arms around the distraught child, and looked at Gregory.

"He – he had a nightmare," said Gregory. "He – he won't tell me what it is. He's been crying for the better part of an hour."

Harry sat on his chair and took Connor against him, rocking him gently.  
"Will you tell me what you saw?" asked Harry once Connor had calmed down.

"It – it was Miss – Miss Weasley," hiccupped Connor. "She – she was afraid and – and a man was – he was hurting her! She – she was bleeding and – and her arm and her leg were – were broken. She – she was so afraid."

"Hush now, hush!" said Harry gently, concentring on his ring and feeling Ginny peacefully asleep. "Ginny is at home now, she's safe. Nothing has happened to her."

"But – but it will," said Connor. "You – you've got to save her, Professor. I think the – the man was about to kill her!"

Harry knew the nature of Connor's dream and this one made him very uneasy.

"Connor," he said as calmly as he could. "Ginny's safe now, okay?"

Connor nodded and Harry could see him really wanting to believe Ginny was safe because the alternative was simply too awful to contemplate.

"You see this ring?" asked Harry, showing him his ring. "This ring is not only a Commitment ring. It's a magical ring which allows me to know how Ginny feels, and her ring allows her to know how I feel.

"Right now, I can tell you Ginny is asleep and safe in bed at home."

"So you would know if anything happens to her?" asked Connor, drying his eyes on the sleeve of his pyjamas.

"Yes, Connor, I would know," said Harry, smiling reassuringly. "Now, I want you two to go back to sleep, okay?"

Connor nodded and they both left, leaving Harry with a profound sense of dread.

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"Harry, what's wrong? You feel so worried."

He was sitting with Ginny in the teachers' box under his ever-warm charmed blanket later that day. They were waiting for the Hufflepuff-Slytherin Quidditch game to begin.

"It's the game," said Harry, the game being the first excuse coming to his mind.

"It is _not_ the game, Harry Potter!" she said, showing him her ring. "You've been worried sick since I woke up this morning."

Harry looked at the Quidditch pitch, and the Hogwarts students and guests all over the stands.

"Connor had a dream," he finally said.

"And?" prompted Ginny.

"You – you were being tortured, Ginny," he said, turning to her. "Connor was so distraught his friend had to bring him to me in the middle of the night."

"Harry, nothing is going to happen to me," she said, dismissing his concerns with a reassuring smile.

Harry looked back at the Quidditch field more worried than ever.

"Hey!" she said, drawing back his attention. "I'll be careful, okay?"

"Ginny, if something ever happened to you, I would die," he told her as seriously as he had ever been.

She held his gaze for a few moments and looked away.

"I'll be careful," she said quietly. "I promise."

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	21. Chapter 20 Christmas Holidays

A/N: Thanks to my beta ZephyrDragon. This was the last chapter she betaed for me before school overtook all of her time.

Thanks to my new beta Arpad! This is his third chapters he betaed for me and starting with the next chapter, he will be flying solo!

Thanks to all of you who are following me and my stories. I really appreciate you.

And thanks to those who left reviews. I like them and appreciate them!

I don't own Potterverse but I do own my OC characters. The McKeithans are very dear to my heart, that is why Connor's story is already all written (believe it or not). I should post it sometimes in the future...

ENJOY!

CHAPTER 20 – Christmas Holidays

Despite their best efforts, Harry and Hermione returned home for the Christmas Holidays with no answers concerning the type of ring being sought. Hermione had spent long, frustrating hours in the library and had come up with so many potential options they hadn't known where to look next.

"This is pointless! There are hundreds of different magical rings, Harry," Hermione had said. "We've got to find a way to narrow it down."

The only useful information they found was the confirmation that Dennis Lewison was in fact bewitched. Effectively, Hermione had found an obscure book on Unforgiveable Curses in the restricted section which explained in gruesome details the results and consequences of the Curses.

Hermione and Harry had discussed long and hard about what to do with Dennis but came to the conclusion that doing something may do more damage than doing nothing. Hermione had pointed out, and rightly so, that if Dennis was no longer bewitched or if he was otherwise isolated, the people who were behind all this may actually go after another student. Harry had not liked it but he had to concede Hermione had a good point.

Harry was still contemplating their lack of progress in their investigation when he apparated to Grimmauld Place that Friday afternoon. He had received an owl from Ginny the day before telling him that Mrs Weasley wanted to invite the McKeithans to their New Year celebration party. Ginny had proposed they meet with the McKeithans at King's Cross Station to personally extend the invitation. Harry wondered why this had come about as he didn't remember Mrs Weasley meeting the McKeithans before.

Harry and Ginny arrived at King's Cross Station and were walking towards the couple when Connor appeared through the wall from platform nine and three-quarters. With a smile, Harry extended an arm towards Ginny and stopped their progress, giving the McKeithans a moment to enjoy their reunion.

"There he is," Mrs McKeithan pointed out to Mr McKeithan as Connor came towards them.

Mr McKeithan hadn't seen his son in six years and his eyes brimmed with tears when he saw the little boy run towards them.

"Mum! Dad!" yelled Connor, throwing himself in his mother's open arms.

Mrs McKeithan hugged him fiercely and then let him go. Connor looked up at his dad, whose clear eyes were looking back at him.

"Dad," he said tentatively. "Dad! You can see!" he exclaimed excitingly.

"Yes, Connor," said Mr McKeithan, ruffling his son's hair. "I can see."

"How?" asked Connor.

Mr McKeithan looked up at Harry and Ginny who were waiting a few metres away.

"Professor Potter? Professor Potter, you cured my dad?" asked Connor.

"Well, not exactly," said Harry, approaching with a smile. "But I made sure he saw the right Healers."

Harry looked at Mr McKeithan and shook his offered hand.

"What brings you?" asked Mr McKeithan, smiling.

"My parents, actually," answered Ginny. "They wanted us to invite you to come and spend a few days with us to celebrate the New Year at the Burrow."

"The Burrow? What's the Burrow?" asked Mrs McKeithan.

"It's the house where I grew up," answered Ginny. "Will you come?"

Mr and Mrs McKeithan looked at one another and seemed to communicate silently for a few seconds. Connor looked up at them with hope in his eyes.

"Why not?" said Mrs McKeithan to her husband.

"We gladly accept your mother's invitation," said Mr McKeithan to Ginny with a sincere smile.

"Brilliant!" said Harry. "We'll come and pick you up on the thirtieth at eight in the morning, if that's okay with you," he quickly added.

"That would be our pleasure," said Mrs McKeithan.

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Harry and Ginny spent the first week of their Christmas Holiday enjoying each other's continuous company, having dinner with friends, and taking the McKeithans to Diagon Alley to show Mr McKeithan the marvels his wife and son had seen during the previous summer. Mrs McKeithan also tried to take the opportunity to buy Connor a wizarding gift but it proved rather complicated as Connor was very curious and didn't let any of the adults out of his sight for very long.

At the end of the week, Harry and Ginny took the Floo Network to the Burrow. To Harry's surprise, there were only Mr and Mrs Weasley in the living room, and Mrs Weasley was looking rather distraught.

"Where..." began Harry about to ask where everybody else was.

He was stopped by a shake of Mr Weasley's head.

"Molly!" he said joyfully. "Harry and Ginny are here. I bet Ron and Hermione will be here any minute now."

Mr Weasley brought them to the kitchen.

"Dad?" asked Ginny, indicating her mother in the next room.

"Charlie and Percy are not coming," he said quietly. "She was hoping to have all of you here."

"I'll go talk to her," said Ginny, leaving the kitchen.

"Harry, come with me," said Mr Weasley, opening the back door.

Harry followed Mr Weasley to his shed where he kept his Muggle objects. They went inside and he offered Harry a stool. Then he went to the cabinet and removed two glasses and a bottle of Firewhiskey.

'Firewhiskey? At nine in the morning?' thought Harry, getting nervous.

Mr Weasley gave a glass to Harry and walked to his work table with his.

"Harry," he began, turning a funny shade of red. "You know we love you like a son, don't you?" he asked, grabbing some of the tools on his table.

Harry nodded once.

"And, overall, I think Ginny could not have found herself a better man. But I'm her father and I have to ask: what are your intentions towards my daughter?" he asked, looking up at him.

Harry could not fail to see the wide variety of heavy tools and electric devices stewed about them. He was particularly weary of the car battery and the jumper cables Mr Weasley was now holding.

"I intent to marry her, sir," answered Harry seriously. "And try to make her as happy as possible for the rest of her life."

Mr Weasley smiled, visibly reassured.

"Children?" he asked.

'Chidren? Now?' thought Harry.

He was barely 19.

"Eh," he said. "We haven't talked about it, sir. But – but I don't think we're – we're quite ready," answered Harry nervously.

Mr Weasley smile widened.

"Wise boy," he said, approvingly. "You know, last Christmas was a very sad time for Ginny. She didn't tell us about how she felt but we knew..."

Harry looked at the still full glass of Firewhiskey he was holding in his hand.

"It wasn't easy for me either, sir," said Harry sadly. "I thought she had moved on. I thought it was just a question of time before she had someone else in her life, if she hadn't already."

"Harry, she loves you since she's 10 years old!" said Mr Weasley, strangely sounding like Mrs Weasley all of the sudden. "You don't move on _that_ easily when you've loved and waited for somebody for _that_ long.

"Now, let me ask you: when do you intend to make an honest woman out of her?" he asked, sounding like his old self again.

"I..." began Harry, suddenly looking up at Mr Weasley and the cables in his hands.

But he was interrupted by Ginny opening the shed door.

"Hermione and Ron just arrived," she announced.

She then saw the glass of Firewhiskey in Harry's hand and glared at her father. Harry took the occasion to stand up, put the untouched Firewhiskey on the stool and grabbed Ginny's hand.

"Soon, Mr Weasley, soon. Was there anything else?" he asked with a smile at Ginny.

"No, son, you can go," said Mr Weasley.

"What did he want?" asked Ginny as they walked towards the house.

"Nothing!" answered Harry quickly. "But... your timing was impeccable!"

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That night, Ron and Harry had just turned off the lights when Harry turned to Ron and said: "Ron, why don't you and Hermione Commit?"

"What? Us? Commit?" asked Ron surprised.

"Well, yeah!" answered Harry as if it was obvious.

"I don't know, mate," said Ron. "I don't think Hermione's ready."

"Ron, you've been dating for two years now," said Harry. "If she's not ready now, when will she be?"

Ron stayed silent for so long Harry thought he had fallen asleep.

"I'm scared, Harry," Ron finally said. "You know, Hermione is pretty headstrong. What if she doesn't want me to ask her? I mean, she's never hinted that she wants us to be Committed or anything. What if she says no? I'm not ready to be told off, mate."

"Ron, take my word for it and ask her," said Harry seriously. "You're more likely to be told off if you don't than if you do."

"Why do you say that, mate? Did she talk to you?"

Harry did not answer and Ron did not ask again.

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It was Christmas morning.

The sun was not yet up when Harry heard the door to the bedroom he shared with Ron open. A few seconds later, he felt somebody sit on his bed and kiss the lightning scar on his forehead. He recognized the flowery smell of Ginny's hair and smiled, lifting up the blankets so she could slip under them. He pulled her close and enjoyed the feel of her against him. He looked at Ron's bed and even with his blurry vision he could see it was empty.

"He and Hermione disapparated about 5 minutes ago," said Ginny, chuckling. "I think my mother's rules are driving us all crazy."

"Yeah!" said Harry, kissing her hair. "You think he asked her to Commit? I sort of told him to last night."

"It would make sense," answered Ginny, yawning. "It sure would be a Christmas gift to remember."

Harry was about to fall asleep when he heard: "Ginny Weasley! What are you doing upstairs?"

It was Mrs Weasley from the first floor landing.

"Molly, shush! You'll wake them," said Mr Weasley in a whisper but loud enough for them to hear.

"Wake them? She's not supposed to be up there in the first place!" snapped Mrs Weasley.

"Molly, let them," said Mr Weasley. "It's Christmas."

"Christmas or not, they're not married!"

"Come now, Molly," said Mr Weasley. "We weren't married either when we slipped away to your parents' attic..."

"Ouch!" whispered Ginny to Harry, putting her hands on her ears. "I didn't need to hear that!"

"... and we were younger than they are," continued Mr Weasley.

"But she could get pregnant!" protested Mrs Weasley.

"Molly, dear, you showed her all about the protection charms when she was 15..."

"Protection charms?" asked Harry intrigued.

"Hush!" said Ginny who was still listening.

"... trust her. Our Ginny is not a little girl anymore. She's 18 and she knows what she's doing. Besides, these last two years were hard enough on both of them. Let them find comfort in each others' arms if it makes them happy."

"I don't like it," said Mrs Weasley.

"I know you don't but they're grown up now, and they deserve it," said Mr Weasley. "Come now, let me make you some tea."

Ginny grabbed her wand and flicked it to close the door.

"I think Ron would have paid a lot of galleons to overhear that conversation," she said.

"I didn't know your dad ever stood up to your mum," said Harry.

"Neither did I," she said. "I guess he really feels strongly about this."

"Ginny, what charms was he talking about?"

"Charms so I don't get pregnant," she answered sleepily. "I just cast them once a week. It's a lot more efficient than the Muggle ways."

Harry had never really thought about it, and felt guilty when he realised he could definitely have got Ginny pregnant.

"Don't worry about it," she said, yawning. "I want to sleep and I can't do that while you're worrying about something."

Casting all thoughts of pregnancy out of his mind, Harry kissed her hair and closed his eyes.

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"Where have you been?" Ginny asked her brother when he and Hermione walked in the front door, late that afternoon.

Fleur and Angelina were helping Mrs Weasley prepare the dining table while Bill and George were with Mr Weasley in the back garden. Ginny and Harry were tidying the living room and adding chairs so they could all open gifts after dinner.

Glowing, Hermione walked over to Ginny and showed her the ring on her right hand. Ginny looked at it for a few seconds and when she realised what her friend was showing her, she hugged her in delight, all the while laughing.

"About time, you big loon!" said Ginny, releasing Hermione and turning to her brother. "She's been pining for you for over a year! If Harry had made me waited that long, I would have beaten him bloody before I condescended to say yes!"

"Well, actually, now that you mention it," said Ron, rubbing his left cheek.

"Come on, Ron!" said Hermione. "I only slapped you!"

Ginny gasped in surprise. Obviously, she hadn't expected that.

"You did not!" she exclaimed.

"Of course, I did!" said Hermione proudly. "Right before I threw myself in his arms and said yes."

Grinning, Harry looked at his friends.

"Congratulations!" he said, shaking Ron's hand.

"Congratulations for what?" asked Angelina, walking into the living room followed by Fleur.

Harry hadn't seen Fleur in a while and wondered if she had gained weight. She looked a little rounder somehow. But again, it might only be the loose-fitting clothes she was wearing.

"Ron and Hermione finally Committed," announced Ginny.

"About time!" said Angelina. "I was beginning to fear we would all be married before you got around to asking her, Ron," she added, looking at Ron who blushed furiously.

"Committed? Who got Committed?" asked Bill, walking into the room with the rest of the family.

"Don't tell me you finally worked up the nerve!" said George behind Bill.

"Well... Yeah! I did," answered Ron.

"Oh! How wonderful!" said Mrs Weasley, hugging Hermione and then Ron. "About time too!" she said sternly to Ron.

"Mum," said Bill who had found his way to Fleur's side and was beaming at her. "We've got news too."

Mrs Weasley looked at them and suddenly gasped, putting her hands in front of her mouth.

"No?" she said.

"Yes!" answered Fleur, smiling radiantly.

"You're pregnant!" exclaimed Mrs Weasley in tears. "A little baby," she added, hugging Fleur in a bear hug. "A little Weasley! When?"

"Soon. End of April, beginning of May," answered Bill.

"I should have seen it!" said Mrs Weasley, looking at Fleur's loose clothes. "I should have seen it right away. Why did you wait so long to tell us?"

"We hadn't had a chance," said Bill. "We spent most of the last two months in France, remember?"

"Your mother must be so happy!" said Mrs Weasley.

"Yes, she is," said Fleur.

"Well, if there are no more announcements, let's proceed to the kitchen," said Mrs Weasley. "Dinner is ready!"

Dinner was as boisterous now that they were all grown up as it had been when they were all children. Harry enjoyed himself very much and could not remember the last time he had felt so much part of a real family.

"We finally decided on a date for our wedding," said Angelina to Mrs Weasley.

"When?" she asked in the silence that followed the announcement.

"April 1," answered George, grinning.

"It can't be!" said Mrs Weasley. "It's your birthday!"

"We thought it would be fun," said Angelina.

And Harry had no doubt it would be. It certainly would be better than Bill and Fleur's wedding, no questions there. He looked at Ginny who was looking back at him with a mixture of joy and anticipation.

"This time, I'll be able to go with you," she said, smiling.

"Yeah!" he said. "And I won't have to pretend to be somebody I'm not, fending off suitors who want to dance with you."

"What?" said Ginny surprised. "Who?"

"Viktor Krum," he answered.

"What did you tell him?"

"That you had a big, jealous boyfriend."

Ginny laughed, amused.

"Poor Viktor," she said. "He's a lot luckier at Quidditch than in love."

"I agree," said Hermione who heard the last part of the conversation. "Maybe we should try to find him a girlfriend," she suggested.

"And I know just who!" exclaimed Ginny. "Let me see if I can invite her to the game tomorrow. She would be perfect for him. She's a Harpy."

"He doesn't know her?" asked Hermione.

"He may but I doubt it," said Ginny. "She's fairly new."  
"What does she play?"

"Chaser," answered Ginny.

"Not Adira Glendale?" asked Ron surprised.

"Yes," answered Ginny.

"That girl is hot!" said Ron. "She can't not have a boyfriend!"

"Ron!" protested Hermione.

"She's very shy," explained Ginny. "And I know she doesn't have one because she told me! Besides, from what I hear, we will be one Chaser short tomorrow. I'll go see her after dinner and ask if she wants to come over."

And right before desert was served, Ginny did just that. She grabbed her winter coat and walked outside by the front door. She came back ten minutes later with a huge smile on her face.

"It's all set," she said, sitting back next to Harry. "She was happy we thought about her. She had read about us in the Daily Prophet and had been dying to come and play with us.

"By the way, I think the Lori Carlton article has triggered another group to form with the Irish teams, mostly. Maybe it would be nice to play them sometimes."

"Maybe we should find ourselves a name," suggested Ron.  
"What about the Burrow Red and the Burrow Black?" suggested Harry.

"I love it! And I think it's only fair to my parents that we do call ourselves 'Burrows'," said Ginny. "We do play here, after all!"

It was very late when they finally made their way upstairs. When they arrived at the first landing, Ginny said "Night", grabbed Harry by the front of his shirt, pulled him into the bedroom with her, and closed the door firmly behind them.

"Hey! My things!" said Hermione indignantly through the door.

"They're upstairs!" answered Ginny, who, during the day, had moved Hermione's things while Harry had moved his.

"Ginny, that's not funny!" protested Ron. "We'll get in trouble."

"No, we won't!" said Ginny.

In light of the conversation they had overheard, Ginny had decided she would no longer put up with her mother nonsense. Her dad was right: she was of age, she was Committed, and she knew what she was doing.

She looked up at Harry and grinned mischievously.

"Now, Mr Potter," she said, walking to him and removing his glasses.

She put them on the bedside table, grabbed her wand and cast a Muffliato spell on the door. She put her wand next to Harry's glasses and turned to look at him.

"Now, Mr Potter," she whispered in his ears, giving him goose bumps. "Would you please give me a Christmas I will remember for the rest of my life?"

Smiling, Harry was happy to oblige.

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Eyes still full of sleep, Harry walked out of Ginny's bedroom the next morning to go to the loo when he came face to face with a blurry figure on the landing. The figure had red hair and was too small to be Ron or his dad.

"Morning, Mrs Weasley," he said with what he hoped was a winning smile and not a stupid grin.

"Hmf!" she said and stormed down the stairs.

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	22. Chapter 21 The Muggle Guests

A/N: I do now own Potterverse but I do own my OCs.

Thank you to my wonderful beta, Arpad! Love him! He's the best!

Enjoy!

CHAPTER 21 – The Muggle Guests

Harry had to admit, Ron was right: Adira Glendale was a very pretty girl. She was petite and fragile looking, with long, straight, light brown hair, and big, round, green eyes in a heart-shaped face. Her pale cream-coloured skin reminded him of Ginny's complexion. But Ginny was also right: the girl was very shy. When Ginny introduced her to him, she didn't look up, keeping her eyes on her shaking hands instead.

Harry also noticed all the single guys, and quite a few no-longer-single ones, were looking at Adira with open appreciation. And Viktor had also noticed her. Harry thought he saw a shadow of a smile on his face when it was announced she would be playing for his team.

Ron blew the whistle and the game began. It was very cold that day, and Harry was happy he had cast an ever-warm charm on his clothes. It was also overcast, but even if the sunless conditions made it near perfect to locate the snitch, the little ball was nowhere to be seen. More than once, Harry saw Viktor dive into feints and he was sure the Bulgarian was trying to impress Adira by his agility with a broomstick. Adira wasn't bad either, but Harry was proud to see Ginny was a lot better.

They had played for a few hours when Viktor and Harry finally duelled for the snitch. Viktor's intensity and determination strangely reminded Harry of when, a few months prior, he had badly wanted to catch the snitch to impress Ginny. In the end, Viktor caught the golden ball and his team descended on him, slapping his back and congratulating him. Even Adira seemed less shy in this display of appreciation and team spirit.

Now that it was winter, the Weasleys had put up a pavilion in the back garden under which they had cast a warming spell. A table was set and Mrs Weasley had again prepared a wonderful dinner for them all. By chance, or by device from Ginny and Hermione, Harry couldn't tell, Adira was seated next to Viktor.

"Ron, I meant to ask you," said Harry to Ron who was sitting in front of him, "how do your parents pay for all this? I mean, we've been having big dinners like this for the better part of a year now, and I know feeding that many people is not cheap."

"We – I mean Ginny, George and I – do," answered Ron, taking a bit of his roast beef. "Mum didn't want us to at first but when we told her we wouldn't be staying for dinner otherwise, she let us. She still insisted on doing the cooking, and since she likes it so much, we let her. 'Is a good thing too, us coming every Sunday and all," he continued, still eating. "There's so much food left they barely have to buy any for the week, which must be helping them quite a bit."

Harry looked up at Ginny who smiled at him. He leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead. For one rare occasion, she was actually sitting next to him.

"Ginny, look!" whispered Hermione urgently, across from them.

She indicated the other end of the table with her head. Viktor and Adira were talking together and Adira was now looking up at the Bulgarian Seeker, smiling.

"Wow!" said Ginny. "He's even smiling back at her."

"I think they like each other," said Hermione approvingly.  
"Yeah!" said Ginny. "I think our plan worked better than we thought."

"Aren't you meddlesome," said Ron grumpily. "Leave the poor bloke alone."

Ginny was about to say something but Harry silently stopped her with a shake of his head. The last thing he wanted was for Hermione to find out Ron had asked her to Commit because Harry had meddled in their own affair, and he knew Ginny well enough to know she would use something like that to aggravate Ron with the result of actually hurting Hermione.

"Come on, Ron! Everybody needs help every once in a while," said Hermione, slapping him playfully on the arm. "And besides, it's fun," she added with a smile.

"Yeah! Loads of fun!" said Ron still as grumpy.

The girls found how well their plan worked the following Wednesday, when Ginny came back from her second Quidditch practice of the holiday.

"Since we will still be a Chaser short," said Ginny, sitting on the floor of the living room with her back against Harry's legs, "I invited Adira to come back this coming Sunday. It was like opening the floodgate. She asked me all those questions about Viktor, if he was single, how long he has been playing with us, how long we have known him. And then she finally admitted to me he had sent her an owl!"

"An owl?!" asked Hermione impressed.

Hermione was also sitting on the floor. They had the Burrow to themselves as Mr and Mrs Weasley were gone to the super market to get food for the upcoming New Year and Quidditch dinners.

"Yes! Can you believe?"

"No, I can't," said Hermione, frowning. "It took him over a month before he sent _me_ an owl."

"Well," continued Ginny, "he told her he was hoping to see her again soon."

"Wow!" said Hermione with a smile.

Ron rolled his eyes while Harry smiled.

"I think Sunday will be very interesting," said Ginny.  
"Very much so," agreed Hermione.

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Harry and Ginny apparated into London, a few streets away from the McKeithans, very early the next morning. It was very cold again, and the sky was still cloudy. Harry would not have been surprised if it snowed by the end of the day.

A few minute later, they rang the doorbell at the McKeithans who were already waiting for them. They called a taxi and made their way to King's Cross Station to catch a train for Devonshire. Harry, after friendly debate with Mr McKeithan, paid for their passage and they boarded.

"I take it this is not how you usually travel," said Mr McKeithan once they were seated.

"No, it's not," answered Harry.

Harry really liked Mr McKeithan. Like Mrs McKeithan, the older man had readily embraced the wizarding world since his vision had been restored. More than once, he had surprised Harry with his accurate and instinctive perceptions of the wizarding world. Harry also found, despite the age difference, a kindred spirit as Mr McKeithan understood the horrors of seeing friends die in a war. Having lost so many adults around him, Harry had begun to see Mr McKeithan as he had seen Sirius and Lupin: as a guide, mentor, and friend.

Harry had often wondered why Ron and Hermione had not been as affected as he had by what they have been through. He had to remind himself they had not lost their parents and almost everybody they held dear as he did. And besides, they had had the benefit of comforting each other for most of the time while Harry had had dots on a map and a constant longing. Then again, they may have been as affected as he had but hadn't told him, not wanting to add to his own sense of guilt.

"How do you usually travel, dear?" asked Mrs McKeithan.

Now that Mr McKeithan could work, Mrs McKeithan looked a lot healthier. She had gained some much needed weight and her skin was rosier. She was also wearing a new dress with new boots and a new winter coat. Connor and Mr McKeithan were also wearing new clothes.

"We have a few modes of transportation," said Harry. "We, of course, can use the train like the students when they go to Hogwarts. Then there are broomsticks, of course. We can also disappear and reappear to our destination with a flick of our wand, however this is harder to do and we need a license to do it. That's how Ginny and I got to your house this morning.

"Then there is the Floo Network. It's a greenish powder we throw on the fire which allows us to travel from fireplace to fireplace, as long as they are connected to the network.

"And there are portkeys which, when you touch them, transports you to a predetermined location... Am I forgetting one?" asked Harry, turning to Ginny.

"The Knight Bus," answered Ginny, "which I was about to board when you asked me to stay. Harry, how can you forget the Knight Bus?"

In response, Harry smiled lovingly at her.

"What's the Knight Bus?" asked Connor.

"It's a bus which transports stranded witches and wizards," answered Ginny, "or witches with too many packages to take any other modes of transportation. If you raise your wand as if to call a taxi, it will come and pick you up."

"Oh!" said Connor.

Harry was surprised Mr and Mrs McKeithan did not seem sceptical about what they were saying. He knew if he had been a Muggle, he wouldn't have believed half of it.

"Do you drive at all?" asked Mrs McKeithan.

"No," said Harry. "We don't really need to. We take the taxi, mostly. Hermione can drive. Her parents are Muggles. She will be picking us up at the train station. Her parents will be spending the New Year with us, too."

"It's very nice of your parents to have invited us," said Mrs McKeithan to Ginny. "We do not have any family left so we would have stayed home alone."

"My Mum loves to have people around," said Ginny. "We were seven kids, you know. Of course, only Ron and I are around for this year and she thought the house would be too empty. Dad suggested we invite you and Mr and Mrs Granger. Dad loves Muggles. He will ask you so many questions, you may not thank us when you return."

"Ginny, I just thought of something: Mr McKeithan is an electronics repairman! Your dad will definitely have the time of his life!" said Harry.

"No! Really? Wow!" she said. "My dad will _love_ you!"

Mr McKeithan smiled, amused.

"What do Mr and Mrs Granger do?"

"They're dentists," answered Harry.

A few hours later, they arrived at the train station and Hermione was there, waiting for them, next to her parents' Sports Utility Vehicle. She was accompanied by Guinevere Boxley who had stayed at Hogwarts for the Holidays and had obtained a special permission from her parents to spend the New Year celebration with Hermione.

"Professor Granger!" exclaimed Connor upon seeing her.

"You can call me Hermione while we're here, Connor," she said, laughing. "Mrs McKeithan, nice to see you again! Mr McKeithan, nice to finally meet you!"

A few minutes later, they were in the vehicle driving to the Burrow. The roads were snowed in but the access road to the Burrow had obviously been ploughed by magic.

"Oh! Dear Lord!" exclaimed Mrs McKeithan when she saw the house. "This is lovely!" she added after a few seconds.

Harry was convinced she was about to say something else and smiled.

"Harry! How can it not fall?" asked Connor as surprised as his mother, asking the question that was undoubtedly on the adults mind.

"By magic, Connor," responded Ginny, laughing. "The house had been like this for over twenty years and it never fell," she added.

Mr and Mrs McKeithan smile in relief.

"Is that a Quidditch pitch?" asked Connor, pointing at the pitch a little way away from the house.

"Sweet heart, what are you pointing?" asked Mrs McKeithan.

"The Quidditch pitch, right there!"

"Connor, it's a Quidditch pitch but Muggles can't see it unless they're inside," explained Harry. "And we will be playing on Sunday."

"No way! And mum and dad will get to see you play? For real?"

"Yes," answered Harry.

"As a matter of fact," said Hermione from the front seat, in her typical scholarly tone. "According to Ron, there are no records of any Muggles having attended a Quidditch match. Mr and Mrs McKeithan, and my parents may well be the first Muggles to witness one."

"Wow!" said Connor. "Mum, Harry could have been the David Beckham of Quidditch! He is _that_ good! It said so in the newspaper!"

Harry blushed, and Ginny and Hermione laughed, amused.

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As Harry predicted, Mr Weasley was fascinated by his Muggle guests. He had Mr Granger explained him everything there was about being a dentist and spent quite a few hours tinkering in his shed with Mr McKeithan.

Guinevere Boxley turned out to be a very quiet little girl, same as in class. She seemed very lonely and Connor tried to spend some time with her. While Connor was inquisitive, curious and talkative, she only seemed to be interested in books and spent a fair amount of time with Hermione and Ginny. As to not offend anybody, sleeping arrangements had been modified, and Hermione and Ginny were sharing Ginny's room with Guinevere while Harry and Ron shared Ron's bedroom again, with Connor.

Mrs Granger, while not as comfortable with magic as Mrs McKeithan, did get along with the two other ladies. Mrs Weasley also greatly impressed them with her cooking skills and her magical kitchen.

They spent a great day on New Year's Day, and Harry even let Connor and Guinevere fly broomsticks in the Quidditch pitch, both of which were ecstatic. Harry even threw some orange golf balls which they tried to catch. While Connor was mostly fearful of heights and would only fly low and slowly, Guinevere was an excellent flyer and caught all the balls he and Ginny threw at her. Harry wondered more than once if she would not become the next Gryffindor Seeker.

"You know," said Ginny while they were walking back to the house after spending the afternoon outside, "Mrs McKeithan asked me if it's true you're a celebrity in the wizarding world, like Connor told them."

"What did you tell her?" asked Harry.

"I told her you were probably as well-known as the Muggle Prime Minister and you had your name in the newspapers about every week," answered Ginny, grinning. "She was rather impressed."

"I'm not going to ever be plain Harry, will I?"

"Not even at seventy!" exclaimed Ginny amused. "Harry James Potter, I love you, you know," she said after a few seconds of silence, "even if you are as popular as Merlin."

"Ginevra Molly Weasley, I love you, too," he said, smiling at her.

"Harry! Harry!" yelled Connor coming out of the kitchen door at a run.

He had made it back to the house a few minutes earlier as he and Guinevere had ran the entire way.

"Look what my parents just gave me!"

He showed Harry a huge crystal ball with smoky whiteness inside, the type used in the Divination class. Harry smiled broadly. He had picked it up for the McKeithans after their visit to Diagon Ally, as Connor has been too curious to allow any of the adults to slip away.

"Wow! Brilliant!" said Harry.

And he wondered not for the first time how powerful of a Seer Connor would turn out to be.

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Sunday came and so did all the Quidditch players. The spectators were also more numerous than usual as most of the players had brought along family members. Mr and Mrs Granger, and Mr and Mrs McKeithan were sitting in the stands under ever-warm blankets and Hermione was sitting behind them with the two children. When Harry walked into the pitch, she was leaning forward, explaining the rules to them.

As a total surprise to Harry, Hagrid was there with Professor McGonagall and the twelve students who had stayed at Hogwarts for the holidays. Harry waved to them with a smile and they returned his wave, the youngest ones jumping up and down in excitement. He also saw some of his old school and D.A. friends such as Neville with Hannah Abbott, and Luna Lovegood with a man Harry did not recognize. Ernie MacMillan was also there, sitting with his little brother and Connor, next to Hermione. Sherlock Holmes and Kingsley Shacklebolt were also present, sitting with Mr Weasley and some other workers from the Ministry.

In the pitch, among the players, Viktor had eyes only for Adira, who was talking to him a little apart from the others who were telling each other Quidditch stories.

"You realize we wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you," said Ginny, coming to stand next to him.

Harry looked at her with a frown.

"We would be in a much darker world right now, and I don't think anybody would be celebrating the holidays, or playing Quidditch for that matter," she added.

Harry looked at the others and smiled. She was right, of course. Had he not defeated Voldemort, there would be no Quidditch, and no celebration; there would only be fear.

"Okay, mates! In the air!" called Ron, after blowing his whistle to gain their attention.

Like the others, Harry took to the air and, a few seconds later, Ron blew his whistle again and the game began.

The snitch was particularly hard to see today. The sun was out and its reflection on the snow was blinding. At the first time-out, Harry had Hermione cast a shading spell on his glasses. But even that didn't help. He was starting to think they may have to play in the dark when finally he saw it float near the stands, right in front of where Hermione and the Muggles were sitting. He flew to it and Viktor, realizing what Harry was doing, followed. Then Viktor saw the golden ball too. Catching the snitch was a Seeker duel like the best ones Harry had ever had, both Seekers trying to outsmart and unbalance the other. At some point, Harry did unbalance Viktor who felt from his broom and landed in the snow. The snitch was fast that day and Harry stood up on his broom like he had done in his first year at Hogwarts. His fist finally closed over the snitch and, unbalanced, he felt off his broom however, he was a lot higher than he had been when he had fallen in his first year.

"_Arresto momentum_!" cast Hermione from the crowd.

And it was a good thing she did as he was sure he would have otherwise ended up at St. Mungo's. He lay there, where he softly landed, savouring the victory before standing up in the three-foot deep snow.  
"Well, Harry, didn't you give us a scare here," announced Lee Jordan. "Good thing Hermione was in the crowd with her wand at the ready!"

Slowly, he made his way to where the snow was less deep. He was met by the rest of the players and a very angry Hermione.

"You idiot!" she shrieked and slapped him. "What were you thinking?" she added, throwing herself in his arms and hugging him like he was about to disappear.

"To catch the snitch?" he asked with a smile, hugging her back.

"Incorrigible show off!" she said, and stormed away.

"She'll come around at dinner," said Ginny to Harry who was looking at Hermione leave. "Just don't do that, ever again!" she added deadly serious, and walked away too.

The crowd under the tent that night was reminiscent of a wedding. There was food, music, and dancing. Everybody was happy to celebrate the arrival of the Year 2000, which everybody predicted would be a great year for the wizarding world.

Like Ginny had said, Hermione had come around during dinner and was now dancing with Luna, Ginny, Adira, Connor, Guinevere and Gregory. Mr and Mrs McKeithan were sitting with Harry and Viktor, visibly impressed by the game and both Seekers' performances.

"So let me get this straight," said Mr McKeithan. "You're not even the best Seeker in the world, but Viktor is?"

"That's right," answered Harry.

"That's according to the newspapers," said Viktor. "I think if Harry was to play for England, I would have real competition. But, of course, the newspapers are not invited to our little friendly games so they don't know Harry is a match for me," he continued. "That's what makes these little games so much fun: having somebody who gives me a run for my galleons."

"Really," said Mr McKeithan. "So how is a real Quidditch game?"

"Not as fun as this, I can tell you!" said Neville, joining them. "I don't think I ever saw as good a professional game as the one I saw today. And that is saying a lot!"

"So, Neville, you and Hannah?" asked Ron who also joined them.

"Oh! Yeah!" he said. "Who would have thought? Apparently, she was greatly impressed by my performance during the war. I never knew. Luna is the one who set us up about four months ago. She's really great!"

Harry remembered the blond Hufflepuff who had worn the "Potter Sucks" badge during the Tri-Wizard Tournament. He also remembered Neville had taken Ginny to the Yule Ball. At the thought of her, she appeared at his side.

"Do you want to dance?" she asked him, and he realized the music had slowed.

"Yeah," he said, standing up and following her to mingle with the other dancers.

He pulled her gently closed to him and her body fit perfectly against his.

"Mmh!" he whispered in her ear. "I love holding you like this."

"We have to _not_ get carried away!" she told him, smiling. "There are too many people for us to disapparate. Besides, there are kids! We don't want to give the wrong example, now do we, Professor?"

Harry laugh and kissed her lightly on the lips.

"You're right," he said. "But I do love you, Ginevra Molly Weasley."

"And I, you, Harry James Potter," she said, her eyes dancing in merriment.

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	23. Chapter 22 Rings and Nightmares

A/N: Thank you beta Arpad! You're the best.

Thank you JKR to have given us a wonderful world to play in.

Thank you to all who are reading and reviewing my stories.

However, a word about anonymous reviews: I do not accept any, good or bad. I had someone telling me over and over again that Ron and Hermione getting engaged at 19 and 20 is too young and leaving bad, anonymous reviews about it. Well, I have news for you: look around! I have friends in Canada, US and the UK who got engaged at 18 and 19, including one of my own betas! So please, if you don't like the story, stop reading it. If you want to leave a review, do it with your account or I will remove it.

Sorry, I had to get that one off of my chest.

CHAPTER 22 – Rings and Nightmares

January had been very cold, colder than Harry could remember. Despite their research, Hermione and he were yet to find additional information on their bewitched students and the type of ring they were looking for.

"We are now fairly certain there are two bewitched students," said Hermione, reading from her notes.

Hermione, Ron and Harry were at the Three Broomsticks, sitting at a table by a window, sipping warm butterbeer. It was the first Saturday of February and the students had been allowed into Hogsmeade.

"One sixth-year Hufflepuff and one fifth-year Ravenclaw," she continued. "We suspect they are looking for a ring, and we think they don't know where it is. We don't know if there are more students who were bewitched and..."

"Hey! Isn't that girl a first-year?" interrupted Harry, who was looking outside through the dirty window.

He stood up and rushed out the door, followed by Hermione.

"Where?" asked Hermione urgently, looking right and left.

"That way!" said Harry, starting to run in the direction he thought the first-year had gone.

He turned the corner where he had seen her disappear and... nothing. The street was totally empty.

"Are you sure you saw someone, Harry?" asked Hermione. "The windows are pretty dirty."

"Yes," answered Harry frustrated. "She's a Gryffindor," he added. "I don't remember her name but she is definitely a Gryffindor."

"I'm sorry Harry but there is no one here. Let's go back," said Hermione. "Ron will be wondering if we found anything."

Harry threw a last look down the deserted street and followed Hermione back to the Three Broomsticks.

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Harry was flying over a village covered in snow as if he was on a broomstick. It was pre-dawn and everything was quiet. A single blue car was driving through town to an unknown destination.

Harry landed in front of a small cottage on the outskirts of town. Everything was quiet and peaceful until he heard a loud crashing sound coming from the house. A light was suddenly turned on and Harry noticed the door stood ajar.

He walked inside the house and followed the noise to a bedroom where a man in his fifties was lying on a bed, tied up to the posts. He was in a bad way. He had multiple cuts and one of his legs was broken at an odd angle. His ashen face was covered by a three-day beard and he was staring in fright at a figure sitting on a chair in the corner.

Harry could not clearly see the stranger's face clearly, as if he wasn't wearing his glasses, but he could see enough to notice the gleam of madness and lust in the man's eyes. He was licking a very sharp knife which was covered in blood. Once he had licked the knife clean, he took his wand from his inside coat pocket and stood over the prisoner.

"_Crucio_!" he said softly, in a deep voice.

The man on the bed started to twitch and scream in pain, and Harry heard a sickening pop: the man had dislocated a shoulder.

Laughing, the dark wizard stopped his spell. The man on the bed was between consciousness and oblivion, his eyes were rolling in his head and he had soiled himself. The dark wizard winked his nose in disgust at the smell.

"You're no fun anymore," he said, pointing his wand at the man again. "_Avada Kedavra_!"

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Harry woke up with a start. He was drenched and shivering. Disoriented, he grabbed his glasses and put them on. He was in his bedroom at Hogwarts, it was Friday, and in a few hours, he would have a class to teach. He looked around and saw the sky was just beginning to lighten up outside. Still panting hard, he laid there in bed, covering his shivering body with his blanket which had fallen on the floor during the night.

Harry remembered very well the last time he had had such a nightmare. It was before Christmas, over a year ago, when he had been in training. He had dreamt of an old Muggle woman being killed, as if he had been looking at the scene through the eyes of the Death Eater he had been pursuing. And this new dream had been so equally disturbing he would have given all his galleons in Gringotts to be able to talk to Ginny right now, but she was somewhere in Northern Ireland in training with her Quidditch team and was not due back before the evening.

Knowing he could not possibly go back to sleep, he finally stood up, still shivering violently, grabbed his dressing gown and went to the teacher's bathroom for a long, hot shower. It was dawn when he returned to his room and got dressed. A few minutes later, he made his way to the Great Hall for breakfast even if he wasn't particularly hungry.

"What happened to you?" asked Hermione, joining him fifteen minutes later. "You look awful!"

Harry was moving his food around his plate and was yet to eat any of it.

"Don't tell me the nightmares are back," she said.

Harry nodded. A student came to sit at their table but Hermione shook her head indicating they wanted to be alone. The student nodded his understanding and left.

"Tell me," she asked gently.

Harry told her, every part of it. But instead of making him feel better, it made him feel worse and helpless. Whatever his dream was, he knew he had witnessed the murder of a Muggle man. He also knew it was too late to intervene even if he had known where the village was, which he didn't.

"Who was the dark wizard, Harry?" asked Hermione.

"I don't know," he said. "He just seemed familiar somehow."

"That's not good," said Hermione seriously. "Not good at all."

"Hermione, why am I having these dreams?" asked Harry, almost desperate. "I shouldn't be having them. I'm not a Seer!"

"Let me see: who have you dreamed of so far?" asked Hermione.

"Mr Weasley being attacked at the Ministry in fifth year, Ginny receiving her Christmas gift last year, an old Muggle woman being murdered by the Death Eater I was pursuing also last year, and then this," answered Harry impatiently, removing his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"Hmm!" said Hermione, frowning. "Let me research this."

Harry nodded his agreement.

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The only good thing in Harry's day was his class-free first period and the quick nap he had been able to take before his first class.

But the day didn't get better.

His morning fifth-year students could not stand still for a moment, so excited were they to be allowed into Hogsmeade for a second weekend in a row for the ten day fun fair for the benefit of the Hogwarts school funds. His afternoon fourth year students were as excited but to make matters worse, a girl tripped over a school bag and broke her arm.

At dinner, Harry was completely exhausted and in relatively bad mood. Things did not improve after dinner when he received an owl from Ginny telling him she wouldn't be back from Northern Ireland on time to play Quidditch on Sunday. Since the three Holyhead Harpies Chasers would be absent, they had to cancel their game altogether, to Harry's great disappointment.

His evening finished when he was summoned to the Gryffindor common room to break a fight between two boys who had a crush on the same girl. Both of them got detention and Harry had to take twenty points from Gryffindor, which tied them with the Slytherins.

But his night was by far the worst. He began dreaming about the dead again, something he hadn't done as often since the summer, and hadn't done at all when sharing his nights with Ginny.

The next morning, haunted by his guilt over the war and the knowledge someone was dead and he could not have done anything about it, he stayed in his room and office, not even showing up for breakfast and lunch.

He was sitting at his desk staring into nothing when Hermione found him in the early afternoon.

"Harry, you look dreadful!" she said, setting a plate of sandwiches before him. "What is the matter with you?"

"Oh! I don't know, Hermione," he replied shortly. "Maybe it's the knowledge that a man has died and I had to witness it!"

Hermione bit her lips and sat in the chair in front of his desk.

"Have you had another nightmare?" she asked gently.

"Yeah! The one about the dead. Loads of fun, isn't it?" he said sarcastically.

"I wouldn't say fun, but certainly not dull," she said, frowning.

"Hmmf!" he simply replied, returning to his staring.

All he wanted was to be normal, plain Harry, with a quiet life and no bad dreams.

"I found something if you want to hear," said Hermione after a few seconds of silence.

Harry looked up at her, interested in something for the first time in two days.

"I think I found another bewitched student," she said quietly.

"You... What?" asked Harry surprised by her revelation.  
"A Slytherin," she answered. "His name is Joseph MacArthur. He's a sixth-year."

"I don't know him," said Harry, thinking about his sixth-year N.E.W.T.s class.

"He is not in your N.E.W.T.s class," confirmed Hermione, "but he is in my regular Muggle Studies class."

"How did you find him? I mean, are you sure?" asked Harry.

"It's strange, really. He just spends an extraordinary amount of time in the library for a student with passable grades," she explained with a frown. "I thought at first he was studying for other classes but he only has Charms, Divination, Transfiguration and Astronomy for his N.E.W.T.s. With all the time he spends in the library, and with only four N.E.W.T.s classes, you would think he can write a halfway decent Muggle Studies paper about transportation!

"I was a little angry at him so I went to see what books he was reading when he left the library last night. They were all about magical artefacts, Harry, everyone of them spoke about rings!"

"Oh!" said Harry, leaning forward in his chair. "Any idea which one we're looking for?"

"No, not yet," answered Hermione. "But I have narrowed it down to four."

Hermione looked into her bag – which Harry hadn't notice until then – and removed a few rolls of parchment.

"The first one is a Ring of Invisibility which renders the wearer invisible."  
"George and Ron will be disappointed to find out they didn't create that one," said Harry amused.

"What?" she asked amazed. "George and Ron created a ring of invisibility?"

"Yes, they did," answered Harry. "However, they said they still had some issues with it."

"I'll have to ask them about it," said Hermione, lost in her thoughts.

"So, what are the others?" asked Harry when she didn't continue her explanation.

"Oh, yes! The rings! Where was I? The Ring of Invisibility was last seen in 1887 when it was worn by Sir Frederick deLaurier, a powerful French wizard and accomplished thief of Muggle arts.

"The second ring is a Ring of Healing," continued Hermione. "It was kept in the Devon family, who were themselves accomplished Healers. According to what I've read, the ring would allow for quasi-immediate regeneration of tissues and allow the bearer to survive critical injuries. I also found the ring was last seen in 1825 when one of the Devons put it on one of their patients who left with it. The ring had been missing for a few days when the Devons realised it was lost and, by that time, none of them could remember who they had given it to.

"The third ring is the Ring of Power. This one last recorded sighting was in 1514 but there are rumours it had been used by very powerful wizards since. This ring allows the bearer to control people around him, both wizards and Muggles, a little like an Imperius Curse. However, as opposed to the Imperius Curse, the bewitched people are fully conscious of what their body is doing."

"Nasty stuff," commented Harry.

"The fourth ring," continued Hermione, as if Harry hadn't spoken, "is the Ring of Protection against magical attacks. This ring, like its name states, protects the bearer against attacks of a magical nature. Now that ring, Harry, is rumoured to have been in the Black family for centuries. It was last seen in 1925 at Phineas Nigellus Black's funeral. For all we know, it could be in your vault at Gringotts."

"Which one is your favourite?" asked Harry after a few minutes of silence.

"The Ring of Protection," answered Hermione. "Imagine how much damage a wizard who cannot be magically attacked can do! What about you?"

"The Ring of Power," answered Harry slowly, after a few moments of quiet considerations. "It takes somebody very evil to want to use it."

It was Hermione's turn to remain quiet.

"I'll keep an eye on both of them," said Hermione, putting her notes in her bag and standing up. "In the meantime, you _are_ coming with me to Hogsmeade for some Butterbeer."

"Hermione, I really don't feel like..."

"I don't care!" she interrupted. "Get ready! I'll be back in ten minutes."

Harry hadn't limited his consumption to Butterbeer, and he was relatively tipsy when Hermione and Ron brought him back to Hogwarts later that evening.

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The following Monday afternoon, Harry had just finished teaching and was putting the students' assignments away in his office when there was a knock at his office door.

Harry was exhausted and didn't want any visitors. Nightmares had plagued him again for most of the night and he felt like he had lost all control of his life. The knock came again, more insistent this time.

"Yes?" he called, sitting behind his desk.

To Harry's surprise, Sherlock Holmes walked into his office. Harry made to stand but was stopped by a wave of his boss' hand... well, officially, former boss.

"There was a murder, wasn't there?" he asked as Mr Holmes took a seat in front of Harry's desk.

"Yes," answered Mr Holmes, frowning.

"Muggle man, about 50?"

"How did you know?" asked Holmes now completely surprised.

"I dreamt it," said Harry, looking away. "I couldn't prevent it... it was too late and I didn't know where it was."

"Two villages away, Harry," said Holmes quietly. "And we – I mean 'I' would like you to take a look at the scene. I ask the Minister if I could bring you in on this, and he explained to me the nature of your... assignment, here at Hogwarts.

"Harry, I need you to look at this scene. There is something there, some detail... I cannot put my finger on it but something looks familiar."

"Yes, okay," answered Harry a little shortly. "When?"

"Well, that's why I'm here in person," answered Holmes. "I was hoping we would go now, before the Muggle cops take over the scene."

Harry went to his bedroom to get his winter cloak and followed Holmes to the limits of the grounds. As he didn't know where they were going, Side-Along Apparating with Holmes was the only option offered to them on such a short notice. He took Holmes' arm and a few seconds later, he was standing in an alley. Slowly, because of the deep snow, they made their way to the main road. There were only two houses away from the location Harry had seen in his dream. Already, a crowd of curious people and Muggle cops was gathering on the pavement. Holmes walked to the crime scene tap and showed a badge to the officer on duty.

"Sherlock Holmes, Scotland Yard," he introduced himself.

"Sherlock Holmes!" said the officer, laughing.

"Yes," Holmes said very seriously. "My mother had a sense of humour, too. This is Professor Potter. He's a consultant with us."

Still laughing, the cop raised the yellow tape to let them through.

The sight awaiting Harry in the bedroom was even worse than what he had seen in his dream as apparently, the killing curse had not been the end of this man's misery. Post mortem, he had been eviscerated, as if studied. And the smell was overwhelming: a mixture of blood, excrement, other bodily fluids and decomposition. Harry had seen gruesome crime scenes since joining the Aurors but he hadn't been prepared for this one and keeping down the content of his nearly empty stomach was quite a challenge.

"What am I missing?" asked Mr Holmes, who seemed unaffected by the scene.

"Two people, sir," answered Harry automatically.

He did not know exactly how he knew, but he was certain of it. The dark wizard had killed the man because of the smell, and Harry doubted he would have stayed much longer after the killing. No, somebody else had come afterwards, somebody who didn't care for the living but fantasized over the dead, somebody who would not have minded the smell.

A team, perhaps, but somehow, Harry doubted it. The dream had shown him only one. Unless... could he have seen what the other assailant had witnessed? Could he have, through the other assailant's eyes? After all, it was what had happened when he saw Mr Weasley being attacked, and the old Muggle woman being killed.

The thought was too much for Harry, and he ran to the bathroom to empty his stomach. He was wiping his mouth when he saw his reflection in the mirror and barely recognized himself. His skin was grey and he had dark lines under his eyes.

"Alright, Potter?" asked Holmes concerned, from the opened bathroom door.

"Yes," answered Harry in a hoarse voice. "I was just not expecting this... carnage. My dream showed me somebody who would have left right after the killings. The smell is what made him kill in the first place so he wouldn't have stayed for... more," he said, hesitating on the last word for lack of a one.

While Holmes seemed to want to go back to the bedroom, Harry pointedly walked away from it.

"Are you sure this is where you dreamt about?"

"No doubt there, sir," said Harry. "No doubt at all."

He barely ate at dinner and, in his dreams, the man and the old lady joined the dead who kept asking him why he had let them die.

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Harry had just finished teaching his last class the next day when Hermione stormed in the classroom, closing the door loudly with a flick of her wand.

"What...?" said Harry startled.

"Go get your bag ready, you're going home!" she said. "Now!" she added when he just stand there staring at her.

"Wh – why?" he asked.

"Because you're scaring the students, that's why! The first-years yesterday, and today, the second-years could barely concentrate in my class. All they talked about is how scary you looked! And they are right! Now, go pack your bag! Seeing Ginny may actually cheer you up some."

'Ginny!' he thought and felt such a longing he almost bent in two from the pain of it.

"My – my guard duty?" he asked.

"I've taken care of it!"

Harry went to his room and changed into his Muggle clothes. He packed a small bag and went to find Hermione who was still waiting for him in the classroom. She escorted him to the teachers' lounge, walking fast, not letting anybody stop them. They walked into the teachers' lounge, startling Professor Sprout and Vector who were chatting merrily. Hermione walked to the fireplace, took Floo powder, threw it on the fire, and said "12 Grimmauld Place" very loudly. Harry, in a trance, walked into the fire.

The first thing he saw upon arriving in the kitchen was Malda, working at the stove. He didn't let her talk to him. He just walked up the stairs to the Drawing Room where he found Ginny reading a book, a soft music playing in the background. She jumped to her feet startled when she saw him.

"Harry!" she exclaimed in surprise and shock at his appearance.

Harry just stared at her, as if she was the only thing lightening his soul. She just stood there, looking back at him. And Harry crossed the distance separating them, took her face in his hands, and kissed her with a hunger he had never felt before. Still kissing, he pulled her towards the stairway which they climbed, their mouth barely separating.

Before he knew it, they were in their bedroom, the door closed, and he was undressing her and himself so rapidly and urgently he was amazed he hadn't completely ripped their clothes off. His glasses had disappeared somewhere but he didn't care. He was on top of her, under the blanket, and buried into her faster than you could say 'Home'.

He just pounded into her, trying to get rid of the nightmares that were dancing behind his closed eyelids, trying to get rid of the sights and smells of the horrible crime scene, trying to forget who he was. And he came hard, buried as deep into her as he could.

A few minutes later, still panting hard, he just lay there, holding her like a buoy in the middle of a cold ocean, his head on her chest, closing his eyes tightly to prevent the tears from falling. She gently caressed his hair and let him relaxed a little before she asked "What's wrong, Harry?"

He didn't want to answer. He didn't want to worry her with all he had seen.

"Harry, you didn't make love to me just now," she said gently. "You just tried to lose yourself into me. Tell me what's wrong."

Harry felt a deep guilt and shame washed over him. He hadn't considered her, the love of his life. How could he have been so insensitive, so selfish?

"Harry, don't feel guilty," she said firmly. "I'm here for you, for whatever you need! I am just asking you to talk to me in return."

And he told her everything. The dreams, his fears that he was seeing through a killer's eyes, and how not seeing her, not being able to talk to her, had affected him more than usual.

"Ginny, I cannot do this anymore," he finished, his head still on her chest. "I cannot be an Auror. There are too many horrors. The things I see..."

"If you were no longer an Auror, Harry, do you think the nightmares would go away? Do you think what you see would stop?"

He didn't know but somehow, he didn't think it would.

"And what would you do?" she asked, after a few seconds of silence.

"Play Quidditch?" he said, more as a question than an answer.

"You may be happy for about five minutes playing Quidditch!" she said sternly. "No, Harry, you know, deep down, you have a burning need to save the world. So save it, Harry! And I, I will be right here to save you from yourself and the ugliness that will inevitably surround you," she finished gently.

And he knew she would, he knew this beautiful woman would be the sun in his life until the day he died. And he wanted to love her like he had never loved her before, with his mind, body and soul. He looked at her and kissed her deeply, with all the love he felt for her. Their kiss re-awakened his body and he felt her entrance with the tip of his erection.

"Harry," she said her voice thick with desire. "Please, be gentle."

By her words, he knew he had hurt her earlier, but she had let him because it was what he had needed at the time. And he did something he had never done before. He pulled the blanket away and kissed the length of her body, taking each nipple in his mouth until they were rock hard, Ginny arching her back in pleasure. Then he kissed her belly, making her shiver, and with his mouth, found the valley between her legs. Tentatively, he searched for her centre of pleasure with his tongue and when he found it, began to lick her gently, slowly slipping one finger inside of her, and then a second one. Ginny moaned loudly in pleasure and, when he felt her contract on his fingers, she grabbed his hair with both hands and pulled him up, hard. Following the pressure of her hands, he soon found himself on top of her, her unfocused eyes on his face.

"In me!" she whispered insistently. "Now!"

And oh so slowly, he slid into her. She climaxed again, holding on to him as if her life depended on it. He could barely move but he kept on moving nevertheless, in and out of her, riding the delicious pressure of her on his length. After her wave had passed, he grabbed her hands and put them on each side of her head, their fingers intertwined. And still moving in her, he proceeded to kissing her.

He finally looked at her. She was flushed, her eyes were shiny and she had never been as beautiful as she was now.

He didn't know for how long he had been moving into her and he didn't care. All he cared about was hearing her gasp, squeezing his fingers to the breaking point, and with a great shudder, coming again with a load moan.

Her pressure brought him over the edge and he came again, deep into her.

Panting as hard as her, he just stayed there, in her, over her, looking at her closed eyes, and wondering for the hundredth time why he had been so stupid to have waited over a year before getting back to her.

"Harry," she whispered.

She was so spent, she could barely speak. She simply closed her eyes again, trying to get her breathing under control.

"Hold me," she asked.

And pulling her over him, hiding them with the blankets, he did, until she felt asleep and him with her.

A few hours later, they woke up and found Malda had left them sandwiches on the bedside table. They ate, took a long shower, made love again, and went back to sleep.

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The next morning, Harry woke up happy and surprisingly refreshed. Ginny was there, lying in his arms, and he could feel her hair against his chin. He loved the feeling of her in his arms so much, he knew he would never get tired of it.

"Morning," she said, looking up at him.

She kissed him deeply.

"Ready to start the day?" she asked.

"Do we have to?" he asked.

"Yes, we do," she said, also smiling. "You have class in a little less than an hour and I have practice."

"Can we pretend we're sick?"

"No, we're not!" she said, playfully slapping him on the arm.

She got out of bed and Harry reached on the bedside table for his glasses.

"Eh, Ginny? Do you see my glasses anywhere?" he asked as they were nowhere within his reach.

He saw her blurry form walk back towards the bed and leant down on the floor to look for them. He sat on the edge of the bed, trying unsuccessfully to see what she was doing.

"Oh," she said. "That's not good."

"What?" he asked.

"They're broken... again."

She took her wand from the bedside table.

"_Reparo,"_ she said and gave them to him. "We need to be more careful," she said, walking to her chest of drawers.

Harry shrugged.

'We have magic... Why would we need to be more careful?' he thought.

"Because one of these days, we may have little feet running around the bedroom and we wouldn't want them to cut themselves, now would we?" she added, as if she had read his mind.

Harry stared at her, his mouth hanging open.

"Are you – I mean are we – are you..." he tried to ask.

"No, silly," she said amused. "I'm not pregnant."

She walked to him and put her arms around his neck.

"But one day, I hope we will have little boys with untidy black hair and almond shaped green eyes running around the house," she said.

Harry smiled at her. He had never really thought about it but he liked the idea, very much.

"Or little girls with long red hair and brown sparkling eyes," he said.

"Yeah, maybe that too," she said, grinning.

When Harry went back to school later in the morning, all thoughts of nightmares and murders had slipped from his mind to be replaced by thoughts of a life and children with Ginny.

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	24. Chapter 23 The Second Warning

Thank you JKR for creating such a wonderful world to play in.

Thank you Arpad, my wonderful beta.

Enjoy!

CHAPTER 23 – Second Warning

Harry woke up with a start. Four weeks after the most recent nightmare, he had had another one.

Harry had flown to a different house, in a different village, where a man and a woman in their thirties were held captive in one of the bedrooms. They were scared and filthy, and had numerous cuts and bruises on them. The man was barely conscious and the woman was whimpering, rocking back and forth on the ground, her legs held against her chest. Neither of them was tied up and Harry wondered why they didn't try to escape.

Then he saw why. In the doorway stood the tall figure he had seen in his previous nightmare. While his traits were still blurry, Harry thought the man looked increasingly familiar and he was sure he had seen him before.

The man walked in the room, licking the blood off his long knife, and seemed to smirk at the woman. He took his wand and cast the Cruciatus Curse on the man, who jerked on the floor. The woman kept on whimpering, rocking faster and faster, covering her head with her arms. The dark wizard held his _Crucio_ until the man completely stopped moving, foaming at the mouth and his eyes rolled all the way back into his skull.

"Kitty, kitty!" called the dark wizard to the woman. "Sweet kitty, kitty! It's our turn to play!"

He picked the woman and threw her on the bed. He then picked his knife and slowly ripped off her remaining clothes.

Harry did not want to see the rest. With an effort which seemed superhuman to him, he pulled away from the dream and had the impression of landing violently in his bed. He was completely drenched and shivering, and felt like he would never be dry and warm again. He sat on his bed and put his glasses on. He then took his wand from the bedside table and levitated a log into the fireplace. Outside, the sun was slowly poking over the mountains. He felt for Ginny through the ring; she was sleeping peacefully. With a smile at the picture of them on his wall, he stood and put the kettle on the reawakened fire. A few minutes later, he was sitting in one of his comfortable armchairs, wrapped in a blanket and sipping hot chocolate. The dream was still disturbing him and he hoped he would never get another one but somehow, he doubted that would be the end of his troubled nights. And he was so tired; all he wanted was some more peaceful and quiet sleep.

He finished his cup, put it on the coffee table, and closed his eyes, his head leaning on the back of his chair. It was Saturday and he wanted to sleep again, somehow comforted by the thought he would be seeing Ginny later that day. A few minutes later, sleep claimed him.

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Harry arrived at Grimmauld Place earlier than anticipated later that evening. He found Ginny eating at the kitchen table.

"Harry," she said with a smile. "Already?"

"Yeah," he said. "I – I wanted to talk to you about my dream."

"Another one?"

"Yeah."

"When?"

"This morning."

"Have you told Holmes?"

He looked at her, frowning. It had never occurred to him to tell his former boss, and for a moment he wondered why he should.

"Describe the house to him, he may be able to help," she suggested.

"Oh!" said Harry.

"Go on!" she said, pointing the ceiling towards the study. "You can tell me afterwards."

Harry hurried upstairs and went to the study to write a memo to Holmes. In as many details as he could remember, he described his dream. Since Allegria was at Hogwarts, he asked Malda to deliver the letter for him, and went back to the kitchen were Ginny was putting her dishes away in the sink. They both went to the Drawing room where Ginny sat on the sofa. Harry lay down on the other end and put his head in Ginny's lap. Her playing with his hair was so soothing, he thought he could actually fall asleep.

"So, you want to tell me about your dream?" she asked gently.

He told her his nightmare feeling so much calmer than a few weeks prior despite the horror of it all. He didn't really understand why but he thought that knowing Ginny was there for him was helping. She listened to him without interrupting.

"It was horrible," he concluded with his eyes closed.

She stayed silent, just playing with his hair. He suddenly opened his eyes and sat, turning towards her.

"Ginny, can I take you to the cinema?" he suddenly asked.

"What?!" she asked, surprised by the sudden change of subject and mood.

"Can I take you to the cinema? You know, do something normal for a change? That's what normal Muggle guys do: they take their girlfriend to the pictures," he added excited at the idea.

"Yes," she answered with an amused smile. "Take me to the cinema, Harry."

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"So, you think you see through their eyes when you dream?" asked Hermione.

"Yes, I do," answered Harry. "When I saw Mr Weasley being attacked at the Ministry, it was through Nagini's eyes. Then, when I saw Ginny receive her gift at Christmas, it seemed to be through Mr Weasley's eyes. And then, when I saw the Muggle woman being murdered last year, it looked like I was doing it through the killer's eyes.

"Hermione, it's the only thing that makes sense, but I still don't understand why I have those dreams."

Harry had just returned to Hogwarts from his weekend with Ginny and had sought Hermione to tell her his theory about his dreams. If somebody could figure out why he was having them, he knew she would. They were both sitting in Hermione's office, sipping tea.

"And what about these new dreams?"

"I don't know who they are, Hermione," said Harry. "The only peculiar thing about those dreams is how fuzzy they are, as if I had forgotten to wear my glasses. Well, maybe not as bad but you get the idea."

"Dear Merlin!" exclaimed Hermione after a few moments of silence, her cup halfway between the saucer and her mouth. "Harry, I think I know whose eyes you are seeing through! And why!"

"Who?"

"Bear with me for a moment. First of all, you saw through Nagari's eyes, right? And what was she? Voldemort's Horcrux, his chosen. Then you saw through Mr Weasley's eyes. Again, he was another person who had been marked by Voldemort when he was attacked by Nagari. Then, you saw through a Death Eater's eyes, who was also marked by Voldemort because of his mark.

"Harry, I don't think you are a Seer. I think you are only seeing through the eyes of people who were marked by Voldemort. If my theory is right, it would mean this person you are currently having dreams about would also be marked by Voldemort.

"Well, last year, when students were discussing the Carrows, they constantly said Amycus was a terrible shot. They said he would miss his mark most of the time, especially when his target was far away. Most people believed he desperately needed glasses. And if you remember, Ginny was pretty good at dodging his CruciatusCurses during the Battle of the Astronomy Tower.

"Harry, what if it is really the case? What if Amycus needs glasses and, since your dreams are so blurry, you are actually seeing through his eyes?"

Not only did the students say Amycus was a terrible shot but Harry remembered the Aurors at the Ministry mentioning the same thing. Hermione's theory made sense.

"Hermione, from what you know of Amycus, do you think he could do the dissecting? Could he be that perverse?"

"I believe he could," said Hermione slowly, lost in her memories of last year's conversations with the students who had attended Hogwarts during the war.

"I think I need to get Holmes another message," said Harry, standing up. "I've got to let him know what we found."

A few minutes later, Allegria was flying towards London in search of Holmes.

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Late the next Wednesday evening, Harry was at this desk, reviewing the files and pictures of the second crime scene when somebody knocked at his door.

Harry's dream had actually resulted in the rescue of the woman, however most people agreed she would have been better off dead so severely was she traumatized. She hadn't been able to provide any descriptions of her assailants as she could no longer speak. She had been admitted to St. Mungo's and the Healers doubted she would ever recover.

The man had been mutilated like the others. The more Harry looked at the pictures, the more convinced he was there were two assailants, one of which was Amycus Carrow. The only reason Holmes was even entertaining the possibility was because Harry was so convinced of it.

"Professor Potter?" called a broken voice from behind the closed door.

"Come in," said Harry, covering his files with parchments.

Connor walked in. His eyes were red and he sniffled loudly. He walked to Harry, threw himself in his arms and began to cry even harder. Harry let him cry himself out and gently asked: "Do you want to tell me what's wrong?"

"It's – it's Ginny, sir," hiccupped Connor. "I – I dreamt the same dream again… Only this time, there was this older lady, and one other man. They were mean to Ginny. They – they kept on hurting her."

Connor started to cry again, horrible sobs that racked his small body. Harry let him cry. He didn't dare ask more questions; the first year was simply too distraught. However, Harry was very uneasy about Connor's dreams.

After he had taken Connor back to the Gryffindor dormitory, he wrote to Ginny, urging her to be careful and on her guard.

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"Harry! Open the door!"

It was past midnight that same night and Harry had been asleep for less than an hour when the banging on his door started. He grabbed his wand, turned on the light, and put on his glasses wondering what was so pressing it couldn't wait for morning. He slowly rose and went to open his office door. Hermione, in her dressing gown, walked into his office, an enormous book in her arms.

"I found it! I found what they're looking for!" she said and she shoved the enormous book in Harry's arms.

Barely stifling a yawn, Harry looked at where she was pointing on the page.

"Hermione, what is this gibberish?" he asked, not yet fully awakened.

"It's Latin, Harry," she said in her best bossy tone, taking the book from him.

She went to his bedroom, and sat on one of the chairs in front of the fireplace.

"It's Nicolas Flamel's diary, volume fourteen," she explained. "He left his memoires to the Ministry in case it would help one day. Of course, this is not for public view but I was able to gain access to them."

"What does it say?" asked Harry, sitting on the chair across from her.

"Oh, yes! Right!" she said, as if she had forgotten why she had come. "It's an entry from May 15, 1561. It says:

I went to Lord McNeil today. He had obviously been wearing the ring – despite his promises – as most of his court had been bewitched. Amazing how such a plain ring can appear so glamorous to the wearer.

His court was gathered around him, telling him how great a ruler he was. I knew half of these people would never have told him such a thing. The idiot had not heard one word of what I had told him… Only a Muggle could be so blind.

I took the ring from him. It was not an easy thing to do since he tried on several occasion to bewitch me. Fortunately, I had Perenelle to help me there. Without her, I would never have figured out how to resist the ring's compulsion.

Now that I have it, I just need to keep it safe and make sure it never falls in the wrong hands again.

"Harry, who did Flamel turned to when he wanted something kept safe?" asked Hermione, closing the book with a loud bang.

"You think it's here at Hogwarts?" asked Harry. "You think Dumbledore had it?"

"After the break in at Gringotts for the Philosopher's Stone, he must not have trusted the bank enough to keep the ring there. I think it is safe to assume that when he put his affairs in order, he may have given it to Dumbledore for safe keeping. I think we should go and ask Professor McGonagall. It's probably in her office now."

"Now?" asked Harry. "At this time?"

"Yes!" answered Hermione firmly. "Now!" she insisted, standing up, the diary in her hands.

Harry grabbed his dressing gown and followed Hermione to the Headmistress's office. She gave the password and the gargoyle moved to let them through to the spiral stairway. At the top of the stairway, they heard voices coming from inside and Hermione knocked.

"Enter," said Professor McGonagall.

Hermione opened the door. Professor McGonagall was alone, sitting behind her desk. She was still fully dressed and alert. On the wall, the former headmaster portraits pretended to be fast asleep, except for Dumbledore, who was looking at them with a welcoming smile, and Snape who was scowling as if annoyed somebody had dared interrupt an important conversation.

"You're not in bed?" asked Professor McGonagall.

"Professor," said Hermione, walking towards the desk still holding her enormous volume. "We know what the bewitched students are looking for."  
"I still think you should have closed the school," said Snape's portrait coldly.

"Severus, enough!" she said firmly. "We all know your position on this!"

She turned to Hermione.

"Well, let's hear it," she said.

"Whoever bewitched the students is looking for the Ring of Power," said Hermione.

"But it's a myth!" said one of the portrait.

"A legend!" said another.  
"At best, a story to scare little children," said a third.

But Dumbledore's portrait looked very interested in what they had to say.

"Nicolas Flamel had it," said Hermione, putting the huge book on the desk in front of Professor McGonagall and opening it to the entry of May 15, 1561.

"You can read Latin, Miss Granger?" asked Professor McGonagall with a frown, her only sign of surprise. "I don't recall Hogwarts teaching Latin while you were attending."

"Of course," answered Hermione, as if reading Latin was as common as reading English.

"Good," said Professor McGonagall, turning to the book.

The Headmistress' eyes moved back and forth quickly as she read the passage pointed to her.

"Knowing this doesn't really tell us where the ring is now, Miss Granger," said Professor McGonagall.

"Actually, it sorts of does," said Hermione. "We believe Nicolas Flamel may have given the ring to Professor Dumbledore for safe keeping when he put his affairs in order at the end of his life. We believe Professor Dumbledore may have kept it here, in this office."

Dumbledore was literally glowing with pride.

"Well, Albus," prompted Professor McGonagall, turning to the portrait. "Is it here?"

"Minerva, I cannot tell you as I have taken the Unbreakable Vow and cannot disclose its location."

"It's here, Professor," said Harry, grinning broadly. "By saying no, Professor Dumbledore would not have revealed its location but by saying yes, he would," he reasoned.

Dumbledore inclined his head in respect.

"I'll see what I can find. Now go back to bed; you have classes to teach tomorrow."

They left Professor McGonagall's office and, upon closing the door, they heard her resume her conversation with the numerous headmaster portraits, which all seemed to have a suggestions on potential hiding locations.

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Harry walked in the Teacher's lounge hoping to find Hermione. He had just returned from the owlery where he had sent a message to Holmes and Ginny about his latest dream. Another Muggle had been killed. He was now confident he had investigated or studied the fuzzy dark wizard before, who strangely reminded him of Antonin Dolohov. He said as much in his letter to Holmes wishing he could see the face more clearly and get a firm confirmation of his suspicions.

As he had hoped, Hermione was in the Teacher's lounge, sitting on a chair by the fire, reading a Muggle magazine.

"My mum sent me this," she said, showing the magazine.

It was a National Geographic magazine.

"She thought I would find it interesting."

"Is it?" asked Harry.

"Oh, yes, actually," she answered, returning her attention to the magazine glossy pictures. "I think I should order it for the library."

Throughout the last two years, Hermione had supplemented the Hogwarts library with Muggle books and magazines, which had drawn multiple complains from Madam Pince. "We don't need this rubbish in our library!" she had said. However, Professor McGonagall had supported Hermione's efforts and some of the new additions had been very popular, especially some of the romance novels with the girls, and the car and motorbike magazines with the boys.

Harry was telling her his dream when Professor McGonagall walked into the lounge and closed the door behind her a few minutes later.

"There you are," she said, walking towards them.

Her eyebrows were knitted in worry and Harry had rarely seen her so agitated.

"I found it," she said, showing them a very plain looking metal ring.

"Professor, are you sure that's it?" asked Hermione dubious. "It doesn't look like much."

"No, I'm not. But when I did put it on, it looked very pretty indeed," she answered. "If you don't mind, I would like to see if it works."

Harry and Hermione looked at one another and nodded. Professor McGonagall put the ring on and turned to Harry.

"Stand up, Mr Potter," she said.

And Harry, fully conscious, felt his body stand up of its own volition. He looked up at the Headmistress amazed.

"I take it worked," she said, removed the ring at once and putting it in her pocket.

Harry nodded energetically. He hadn't liked the sensation at all. This was worse than the Imperius curse. At least, with the Imperius curse, the victim didn't know what he was doing.

"Where… where was it?" asked Hermione.

"In one of the ring boxes," answered Professor McGonagall, taking a seat next to them. "This is very powerful magic, very ancient. I wonder why somebody would create such a thing," she said thoughtfully. "Miss Granger, have you, by any chance, found a way to destroy it? I hate the thought of something like this in the wrong hands."

"No, Professor," responded Hermione, almost ashamed she hadn't yet succeeded in finding the answer. "Not yet. I haven't gone into the older part of the library yet. Maybe there is something in there," she said hopefully.

"Miss Granger, please let me know when you find something. This ring is too dangerous to let it lie around anywhere!" she said, standing up.

She walked to the door which stood ajar. She stopped and looked at it with a frown. She pulled it open and disappeared down the corridor.

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	25. Chapter 24  The fight

CHAPTER 24 – The Fight

As he sat in the stands, Harry could not have been more proud. Gryffindor was in the lead for the Quidditch Cup and, since the Slytherin lost their last game, the team was now playing against Hufflepuff for a chance at the prestigious trophy. Harry was confident of their win as they had practiced long and hard for a chance not only at the Cup but also to play against Harry's team.

Ginny was sitting next to him, looking radiant in her Gryffindor red and gold. For the last game of the year, she had abandoned all pretence at being neutral and was now proudly wearing her Gryffindor colours, to Harry's great pleasure.

As she had done all year, Ginny would interview the players after the game and write an article for the Daily Prophet retelling the match. It seemed her articles had been hugely successful with the wizarding world and, when the Prophet failed to publish the article after the third game, it had received so many owls of complaints it had no choice but to print her story the next day. The Prophet confided to Ginny afterwards that in recorded history, it had never received so many owls requesting for something to be published. Harry suspected people were just looking for something positive to read, and kids' successes were always welcoming news. And the way Ginny wrote her articles, even the losers sounded like winners.

"I love you, Ginevra Molly Weasley," he whispered to her ear.

"And I love you, Harry James Potter," she said with a radiant smile.

Ginny's articles were not the only thing Harry rejoiced over. The fundraising efforts had been so successful, Professor Flitwick had to add another row of seats to the stands to accommodate the growing crowd. In addition, Hogwarts coffers, while not as full as before the war, had a certain cushion which allowed the school to remain free for all who attended. As he did for all the previous games, Harry had again donated an hundred galleons and a lot of Hogwarts graduates had followed his example with mostly lesser or equal contributions. Some had even contributed more, to Harry and Professor McGonagall's delight.

The players flew out of their changing room and a few moments later the game began amid cries of encouragement from the crowd. As the game progressed, Harry was secretly happy to see how badly Dennis Lewison was playing that day, and he really wondered how Ginny would be able to put a positive spin on the Keeper's performance. He actually played so badly that after an hour, Hufflepuff had no chance of winning at all, even if their Seeker was to catch the snitch. And to make matter worse for the losing team, the Gryffindor Seeker did catch the snitch with barely any competition from the demoralized Hufflepuff Seeker who had been halfway across the pitch with no chance of reaching the snitch on time to offer any real challenge.

"I wonder how you will be able to make them sound any good, Ginny," said Harry to her ear after the game.

"I – I don't know," she said with a worried frown. "I'll – I'll figure something."

As people were walking out of the stands, she turned to him, biting her lips.

"What's wrong? Your article will be fine," he said, thinking she was still worried about it.

"Can you come home tonight?" she asked, taking him by surprise.

"Of course," he answered, caressing her cheek. "What's wrong?" he asked again.

"I have to be away for the next two weekends," she said. "We're going to train in Bulgaria and we will be playing the Bulgarian National team in a friendly match."

"But that's brilliant, isn't it?" said Harry.

"Well, yes," answered Ginny. "But – but we haven't been away from one another for that long, and, well, I don't like it."

Harry kissed her forehead.

"We'll be fine, my love," he said with a smile. "We'll be just fine."

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But two weeks later, Harry regretted his brave words. His nightmares had come back, haunting his nights, in addition to two new dreams which were even more gruesome than the ones before. The torture of the woman in the last dream had been so completely inhuman and savage, it had made Harry vomit when he woke up. He had decided to notify Holmes of the latest victim but he knew there would be no life for her after what had been done to her. As bad as it may sound, he hoped, for her sake that she wouldn't survive the ordeal.

The day Ginny returned, Harry woke up exhausted. He hadn't had a good night's sleep in days and he decided to go see Ginny that night, after her Quidditch practice. His decision made, he picked up the Daily Prophet from his desk, opened it and his heart stopped.

'Ginny Weasley's New Romance: She dumps Harry Potter for Bulgarian Seeker Viktor Krum' read the headline, under which was a moving picture of Ginny with her hand on Viktor's arm. The picture moved to show her in his arms and then, they were turned as if they were kissing.

Harry put a hand on his heart as if someone had taken a knife to his chest: his Ginny, with another man, his Ginny with Viktor Krum of all man, Viktor who was supposed to be his friend. He looked at the picture again, hoping it would change but it did not. Full of pain and grief, he tightly rolled the paper and walked out of his office. He reached the Teachers' lounge and, without hesitation, threw Floo powder on the fire. He called the 12 Grimmauld Place and walked into the green flames.

He found Ginny, walking into the kitchen, yawning and stretching like a cat.

"What is this?!" he hissed, throwing the paper on the table.

With a frown, Ginny took it and read the headline.

"You believe this?" she asked incredulously.

"You felt like you enjoyed yourself good enough when you were there!" he responded shortly, showing her the ring.

"Of course I did! I was playing Quidditch!" she replied, her temper rising also.

"And being very cosy with Viktor Krum, I see!" spat Harry bitterly.

"I will pretend I did not hear that," she said very quietly, red with fury. "Go back to Hogwarts, Harry. Go and think about what you're saying! I don't want to see you until you're ready to see reason and make sense again!"

Without another word, she walked out of the kitchen. Harry hesitated a moment before taking the Floo network back to Hogwarts.

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"You did what?!" asked Hermione that evening when they were sitting in Harry's office.

After being questions, Harry had admitted he had been particularly miserable all day because he had fought with Ginny that morning.

"You fought over a stupid news article by Rita Skeeter, no less?!" she asked furiously.

Harry hadn't even noticed who had written the article but he knew Hermione must have received an owl from Ginny during the day since he hadn't mentioned what they had fought over.

"She looked pretty cosy," he said shortly, in his defence.

But even to his ear, his defence sounded lame.

"How stupid can you be, Harry Potter?" she yelled at him, standing up. "Are you really stupid enough to throw away all you've got because of a stupid article by Rita Skeeter?"

Harry looked at his desk feeling miserable, and more than a little bit ashamed of himself. Again, he had acted before thinking, a thing that had got him in trouble more than once in the past. He could feel Ginny's misery and pain through his ring and it made him feel even worse. Hermione was right; he was an idiot.

"I do _not_ want to talk to you until you apologize to her," she said and stormed out of the office.

Hermione was true to her word. After a night of nightmares, to which he could add dreams of Ginny leaving him for all sorts of reasons, Harry tried to seek out his best friend to ask her how he could make it up to Ginny. When he found her in the Teacher's lounge, he had barely opened his mouth when she raised her hand to stop him and walked away. To make matter worse, all day he could feel Ginny's misery reflecting his own.

The next morning, after another horrible night of nightmares, he woke up resolute to go home that evening, right after Ginny's Quidditch practice, and make it up to her somehow. This decision made him feel good enough to eat some lunch in the Great Hall, later that day.

He had been eating for a few minutes when he saw Professor McGonagall make her way towards him, her lips so thin he knew she was upset. Then Connor came into the Great Hall, running towards him, in tears. Harry stood up alarmed by the sight of him.

"Connor?" he asked worried.

The eleven year old stopped in front of him and began pounding him on the chest with his fists.

"Why?" he screamed in rage. "Why did you send her flowers? Now she's gone! She's gone!"

"Who, Connor? Who?" asked Harry, trying to stop the youth's fists.

And Harry felt an intense joy through the ring linking him to Ginny, a joy followed by surprised, then anger, and then fear, a deep fear that made his heart stop, followed soon after by pain, a pain in his chest so intense he let go of Connor and would have fell to the ground had he not hit the table with a loud crash instead.

"Harry!" yelled Hermione, reaching his side.

Pale as if he were dead, he turned unseeing eyes towards Hermione.

"Ginny," he whispered, tears flowing freely from his eyes. "Ginny!" he yelled and began to shakily make his way to the door.

Professor McGonagall reached his side and, helped by Hermione, brought him to the staff room at the end of the Great Hall.

By the time they sat Harry in a chair by the fireplace, he was shaking violently from fear, a fear he felt as much through his ring as in his heart.

"Harry, what's wrong?" asked Professor McGonagall.

"Ginny... Ginny's in danger, and in pain," he said, shaking.

"How do you know?" asked Professor McGonagall.

"The rings?" asked Hermione.

Harry nodded and Hermione quickly explained the nature of their rings to Professor McGonagall.

"I think we should talk with Mr McKeithan," said Professor McGonagall. "He may have seen something that could help us."

Professor McGonagall left and Hermione put a blanket over Harry's shivering shoulders.

"We'll find her, Harry," she whispered. "We'll find her."

The fear coming from Ginny was so strong, it threatened to completely overwhelm him. He had to concentrate very hard to be aware of what was going on around him and stay as focus as he could.

Professor McGonagall came back a few minutes later with a still very distraught Connor. Hermione walked to the boy and sat him in a chair away from any view of Harry.

"Connor," she said gently. "I need to ask you some questions. It may be very difficult but I want you to be very courageous, as courageous as Godric Gryffindor. Can you do that?"

After a few seconds of hesitation, he nodded.

"When you walked into the Great Hall earlier, you spoke about flowers. Did you dream about them?" asked Hermione as gently and calmly as possible.

"No," he answered, looking at his legs. "I was about to ask something to my friend when I just saw... something wrong."

"Can you tell me what you saw?"

"I saw Ginny in her Quidditch uniform. She was walking towards some changing room. She walked to a locker and opened the door. She saw the roses and smiled. The card said 'I love you, H.'. She looked so happy..."

Connor tried to turn around to look at Harry but Hermione stopped him, gently holding his chin in her hand.

"Connor, I want you to look at me. I want you to pretend there are only you and me here, okay?"

Connor nodded again.

"What did you see afterwards?" asked Hermione.

"She took the flowers and she disappeared," he said. "Then, in front of her, there were the two men and the woman I saw in my dreams before," he said and tears fell from his eyes again.

"Connor, think about where they were. Can you describe it for me?"

"They were on the side of a mountain," he said, closing his eyes in concentration.

"Keep your eyes closed," invited Hermione gently. "What else do you see?"

"I see a small village far away," he said.

"How do the houses look like?"

"They have pointed roofs and they are dark brown. There are four rows of them. It's like on a plateau."

"Is there a train station?" asked Hermione.

"I don't see one," answered Connor. "I don't see any cars either."

"Okay, Connor, good job," encouraged Hermione. "Now, look at the woman. How does she look like?"

"She – she looks happy. She's smiling," he answered with a shudder.

"What colour is her hair?"

"Brown with white in it. They are tied up like Professor McGonagall."

"In a bun?"

"Yes."

"Is she tall?"

"No, she's at least a head smaller than the men. She's round, like Mrs Weasley, but she looks a lot meaner. She's wearing a black dress with big black shoes."

Hermione took a sharp intake of breath and looked up at Professor McGonagall. She had recognized the description and so did Professor McGonagall.

"What about the men?" asked Hermione.

"One is tall and skinny. He has dark brown hair and a little beard. He looks mean, too. He's also wearing black," said Connor.

"You're doing good, Connor," encouraged Hermione. "Tell me about the other man."

"He is tall and muscular. He makes me think of Viktor Krum but he has no beard, and his eyes are cold. He's wearing a black leather duster and black trousers."

Harry was reminded of his own dream and he knew who the man was.

"Antonin Dolohov," he said, looking up at Hermione. "He's got Ginny!"

And he became even more afraid, if that was at all possible. He knew what Dolohov could do; he had seen it in his dreams.

"Connor, you are very, very brave," said Hermione. "You can open your eyes now."

Connor did and turned around to look at Harry.  
"Why did you send her the flowers?" he asked, tears running from his eyes.

"I – I didn't," said Harry, his own eyes full of tears. "I swear to you, I didn't."

Connor ran to him and hugged Harry who returned the hug.

"You'll save her, will you?" he asked Harry.

"Yes," said Harry. "We'll save her."  
But in reality, Harry was far from convinced they could.

Once Connor was gone, Hermione turned to Harry.

"Antonin Dolohov?" she asked with a frown.

Harry nodded. It all fit. His dreams of Muggle attacks had seemed so familiar to him, as if he had known the perpetrator, recognized the level of violence somehow. And now, he had his answer. Antonin Dolohov. He remembered reading the Death Eater's file and it was all there. Harry would have to send an owl to Holmes to let him know.

"I think the woman is Alecto Carrow," said Hermione.

"Yes, I would think so," agreed the Headmistress. "And I would assume she is with her brother."

Hermione nodded in agreement.

"And the village could be Hogsmeade," continued Hermione. "The fact Connor did not see the train station doesn't mean it isn't there. It may simply mean the angle of his vision didn't allow him to see it."

The Headmistress only nodded.

Harry looked at his hands, a feeling of defeat in his heart. How would they ever find Ginny in such a vast territory? Somehow, he felt it was impossible.

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Ginny had been gone for twenty four hours when Harry received an owl from Mrs Weasley asking him why he and Ginny had missed their weekly game without letting her know, and telling him she was getting very worried. Harry had sat in front of a parchment, continuously feeling Ginny's pain and fear, and incapable of writing a response, when Hermione took the quill and parchment away from him and wrote it herself.

That was over an hour ago.

Harry was still at this desk, paralyzed by Ginny's fear, when Hermione walked to him and slapped him on the cheek, hard. It got him out of his stupor and he looked at her in surprise.

"Snap out of it, you big loon!" she exclaimed. "I need you to help, Harry! We're the only chance Ginny's got! And you may think you're the only one who cares, but I love her, too! And I don't want her to die!" she finished, bursting into tears. "And – and you, staring into emptiness is not helping! Right now, as it is, the last thing Ginny needs to feel is despair coming from you!"

"Hermione, I'm so sorry," said Harry remorseful, looking down at his hands. "But I'm so afraid!"

"You were afraid too when you went to confront Voldemort, and it never stopped you from doing the right thing!" she spitted back at him. "Get a grip, Harry, now!" she added, angrily drying her tears with the sleeve of her shirt.

He knew she was right and tears from his eyes, afraid of what was to come next, afraid of what may have already been done to Ginny.

Once they got themselves under control, they went to Harry's room, and Hermione retrieved a parchment and quill from her rucksack to take notes.

"Professor McGonagall and I are pretty sure the woman is Alecto Carrow," said Hermione, repeating what she had said the day before.

"Don't we have pictures of her we could show Connor?" asked Harry. "In an old Daily Prophet, maybe? If I recall right, they were pictures of her when she escaped from Azkaban. Otherwise, I could owl Holmes for some."

"Good idea. I'll search the library," said Hermione, beaming at him. "We'll do it as soon as we're done here. If the woman is Alecto, the first man Connor described could be Amycus."

"It sounds like him," agreed Harry.

"And you think the third man is Antonin Dolohov?"

"Yes," answered Harry. "The description fits and so do the patterns of the Muggle murders, which have all taken place fairly close to here."

Hermione wrote furiously.

"You know, we need to ask Hagrid to search the mountains," suggested Hermione, writing another note. "He knows them fairly well since he was hiding there during the war."

"Maybe Ron and I can do some flyover, too," suggested Harry. "You really think the village is Hogsmeade?"

"It would make sense, really," answered Hermione, writing another note. "How many places do you know with no cars?"

There was a knock at the door to the office, and they looked up to see Professor McGonagall enter. As she joined them in Harry's room, she looked uncommonly distraught.

"You're making plans, I see," she said, looking at the quill and parchment in Hermione's hands. "Good," she added. "We will need those."

She walked to the window and looked outside. Hermione and Harry waited silently for her to speak.

"Mr Potter, the reason I was coming to see you yesterday when I was interrupted by Mr McKeithan is the... the ring is gone," she said very quietly.

"Wh – what?!" said Hermione, dropping her parchment.

Harry looked at the Headmistress not sure he understood what she had just said. Professor McGonagall did not look back at them, ashamed of what had happened.

"I had kept it in my pocket, thinking it would be safer on my person than anywhere else I could have left it. I still had it yesterday morning but by lunchtime, it was gone," she said. "Albus must be turning in his grave out of shame at my incompetence," she added, keeping her eyes fixedly on the window.

Harry stood up and did something he had never done before. He walked to her and hugged her, putting his chin on her shoulder and looking through the window with her.

"You know, Professor, Dumbledore was the first to admit he could make mistakes, too," said Harry gently. "You're not incompetent. The school is well run and on its way to retrieve its former glory, and it is all because of you. You did what you thought was best for everyone. It just turned out it didn't have the expected results."

"Mr Potter, you're too kind, just like your mother," she said, patting his hand. "I'll let you continue to plan," she said, walking towards the door. "As you have said so kindly, Mr Potter, I do have a school to run."

"Professor," said Hermione before she walked out. "Can we have Hagrid help us in our search?"

"You may have anyone you need, Miss Granger," said Professor McGonagall, as if surprised they felt the need to ask. "Miss Weasley has done great things for this school with her articles, in addition to be one of our former students. It is only fitting that we shall help her any way we can," she said.

Once the Headmistress had closed the door behind her, Harry sat back on his seat and looked into the fire, trying to think of something that could help them. Hermione was sitting silently in the chair next to him, as if thinking very hard about something, as if trying to remember some details which had escaped her.

"Harry! I've got it!" exclaimed Hermione. "Alecto must be the one who's got the ring! Last year, when I was doing my N.E.W.T.s, I remember somebody mentioning that Alecto, when she was here, had been asking about rings, as if obsessed with them. Harry, she's got to be the one!"

Harry looked at her. It made perfect sense. After all, Alecto was powerful enough to have bewitched students. In addition, her recent tenure with Hogwarts would have allowed her to discover the ring in addition to giving her intimate knowledge on the inner workings of the school. And she knew Hogsmeade well enough to be able to conceal her presence.

"Harry, go to the Burrow and get yours and Ron's brooms. Tell Mrs Weasley what happened as I doubt the owl is there just yet. Then come back and start flying over the area," said Hermione in her typical bossy tone. "I will go talk to Connor and Hagrid. Then I'm going to the library to try to find… something! Anything!"

She stood up and left, her mind set on a mission. Harry looked at her leave and stood up, glad someone was taking charge for now.


	26. Chapter 25 The Rescue Efforts

A/N: If you have time, please give a try to my new story A World Divided. It is OC and set in my native country of Canada, but it is a lot of fun... and Harry and Ginny do get involve at some points.

Thank you all for reading and your comments.

CHAPTER 25 – The rescue efforts

Professor McGonagall cancelled all Defence Against the Dark Arts, Care of Magical Creatures and Muggle Studies classes for the week. The students, who had not been informed of what was happening, figured it out, especially when the happenings of the Great Hall spread throughout the school. While some of the youngest students were happy not to have classes, the older students who remembered Alecto and Amycus very well, remained in their Common Room, going out only when absolutely needed, with fear in their eyes.

Mrs Weasley, panicked at the thought of her only daughter in mortal peril, came to stay at Hogwarts and tried to help Hermione in her research in the library. Ron also joined the rescue effort, flying with Harry over the countryside while Hagrid, with the help of his half-brother Grawp, searched all the hideouts he knew of.

Harry could constantly feel Ginny's fear and pain but tried to block it out so he could concentrate on finding her. But he feared time might be running out… quickly.

On the second day of flyovers, they got lucky. While they were flying over a rocky patch covered with low bushes and lichens on the west side of town, Harry spotted something on the ground, something which reflected the sun. He motioned Ron and they landed close to where he had seen the reflection to search on foot.

"Mate! Look what I found!" said Ron, showing a small shiny square object to Harry.

Harry recognized it at once.

"Mate, it's got your initials on it!" exclaimed Ron.

"Because it's mine," said Harry, looking at the lighter.

He kept his eyes on it, not really believing what he saw, not really believing that they could have got that lucky.

"Ginny gave it to me for my eighteenth birthday. Amycus stole it from me last year when he escaped the warehouse," he added, the discovery slowly sinking in.

Ron just stared at him wide eyed.

"Better find Hagrid," said Harry. "He's on the north side of town and not searching in the right place."

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"Professor McGonagall, you've got to let the students into town. It may be our only chance!" said Hermione, pacing in front of the Headmistress desk.

It was Wednesday night, and Harry, Hermione, Ron and Hagrid had gone to see the Headmistres to ask her to allow students into town on Saturday.

"You think this is all related?" she asked.

"Yes!" answered Hermione.

"But we will be using the students as bait," protested the Professor.

"Won't be the first time!" said Harry shortly.

He remembered particularly well being used as bait for the teachers in his fourth year, when they decided to let the events unfold instead of intervening when he had been selected for the Tri-Wizard Tournament.

"What about you, Hagrid? Can't you find her?" asked Professor McGonagall.

"I'm trying, Professor. But I'm afraid I don't know the north side of town as much," he answered regretfully.

"I have no choice, do I?" asked Professor McGonagall with a heavy sigh.

"Not really, Professor," answered Hermione quietly. "And let's hope to Merlin, it won't be too late."

"We will announce it tomorrow night at dinner," said Professor McGonagall. "Hopefully, you will find something before and it won't be necessary."

Professor McGonagall went to sit behind her desk and returned to her paperwork, effectively dismissing them. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Hagrid left her and went towards the Teacher's lounge. All the while, Harry kept on nursing his right arm and left ribs as if he had a lingering pain in them. He knew the pain was not his and wondered for the hundredth time what was happening to Ginny, if she could last until the following Saturday. At present time, he could feel she was mercifully sleeping. Her sleep was not restful but it was not plagued by a gut-wrenching fear either. Throughout the day, he had felt her fear and pain increased at various occasions, and had wanted to sit down and cry. However, those feelings were also fuelling his resolve to find her and he kept on whispering "Hold on, Ginny, we're coming" to his ring.

"Have you found how we can destroy the ring yet?" asked Ron to Hermione, pulling Harry from his thoughts.

"No, I haven't. But I was thinking if the sword of Gryffindor is strong enough to destroy the Horcruxes, maybe it would be strong enough to destroy the ring," answered Hermione. "But the most important thing to do is to get it away from the wearer."

"Who do you think that is?" asked Ron.

"Alecto," answered Hermione. "I think she's the only one cunning enough to pull it off."

Harry agreed. Amycus hadn't stricken him as very cunning or organized, and Harry doubted he could pull off something which required so much planning. Harry also doubted Antonin would have pulled it off either. Antonin was just a cruel person and he did not have the patience or the refinement to plan something which would take long to bear results. Alecto on the other hand could have definitely organised something like that. She had the patience and the cunningness required to do it. This also meant whoever was going to go for the ring would have to outsmart her.

"If you don't mind," said Hagrid when they reached the Teacher's lounge, "I'll go back out there and try to search some more."

"Thank you, Hagrid," said Harry gratefully.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione walked into the Teacher's lounge where they found Mrs Weasley asleep in one of the chairs. Ron looked at his mum sadly. She was pale and looked like she had aged ten years in the last five days. Her hair was in a shamble and she looked like she had lost some weight.

"Mothers should never outlive their kids," said Ron sadly.

"She won't die, Ron!" whispered Hermione furiously. "We will find her."

"It's been five days," said Ron resigned. "How much longer can she last?"

Harry knew the answer was 'not long'. He felt the fear and the pain, and he doubted she was provided with enough food to sustain herself. She was growing weaker every day. And he nursed his right arm and left ribs again, hoping against hope they would find her before it was too late.

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"Hermione, if the ring is like an Imperius Curse, maybe the only way for me to be able to resist it is if you curse me," said Harry in despair.

It was Friday night. The next morning, they would be following the bewitched students into town. Harry knew it was the only chance they had. Ginny had spent most of the day unconscious and Harry had started nursing his right ribs and his left leg as well. She was beyond fear also. Harry could feel she had given up hope and was preparing herself to die.

"It's worth a try," said Ron "It's the only plan we've got. Besides, Harry was not able to curse Dennis because he was already cursed."

"Let's try it, then," said Hermione, taking her wand. "_Imperio_," she casted at Harry.

But a few seconds later, Harry's survival instinct kicked off the curse. Hermione tried, again, again, and again, but with no success. Then Ron tried to cast the curse and it also proved to be insufficient.

"It's no good," he said, sitting down. "Harry, you're just too strong for us to curse. Crouch had his uses after all."

That night, none of them slept. They just stayed in the Teacher's lounge, going over what they knew, hoping their plan would work. In the morning, the search for Ginny had now grown increasingly urgent as Ginny had not regained consciousness since the previous night. Harry had begun to seriously worry almost to the point of lethargy which he tried to fight in order to assist as best he could. But he knew the day's search would be the last chance to find her alive.

Harry was at the castle door with Hermione on his way to the village when he heard someone running towards him.

"Professor! Professor!"

It was Connor, running as fast as he could, still in his pyjamas. Harry stopped and waited for him.

"Professor!" said Connor, panting hard. "You… need… the ring!"

"What ring, Connor?" asked Hermione.

"The one… in… Professor… McGonagall's… office!"

Harry and Hermione looked at one another. They had no time to question Connor as they had to get to town before the students began to leave the castle. But they knew what Connor was and what he could see.

"Connor, come with us," said Hermione, taking his little hand in hers and walking as fast as she could towards the Headmistress's office.

Harry followed. A few minutes later they were in Professor McGonagall's office.

"A ring?" asked Professor McGonagall. "But which one, my dear child?"

Connor walked to one of the cupboards and opened the door. He then took out a little wooden box which he opened on the desk.

"That one!" he pointed.

The box was full of small jewellery items such as very fine necklaces, bracelets and earrings mostly made of gold and platinum. On top of it all sat a very thin golden ring which could have easily been confused for an earring. Professor McGonagall took her quill and fished it out of the box.

"Professor, you got to wear it!" said Connor, pulling on Harry's sleeve. "In my dream, you were wearing it!"

"Potter?" said Professor McGonagall, offering the ring to Harry.

Hesitantly, Harry took it. While he didn't like touching an unknown magical object, he knew there was no time for further research. But when he touched it, nothing seemed to happen. He frowned and looked at it. He tried it on his little finger of his left hand, which was the only finger it seemed to fit on.

"No! No! Not on the left! On the right!" said Connor.

Harry changed the ring, pushed it up his finger, and felt no different.

"Well?" asked Professor McGonagall.

"Nothing," answered Harry about to remove the ring.

"No, Professor!" said Connor, stopping him. "You got to wear it! Please, Professor!"

"Well," said Professor McGonagall again, "since Mr McKeithan seemed so adamant, maybe you should wear it for now. Off you go!" she dismissed them.

Harry and Hermione left Connor with the Headmistress and ran to the front door of the castle. Hagrid and Ron had already left as they would take position in the hills and the outskirts of town. Hermione would stay in town and Harry, wearing his Invisibility Cloak, would be flying over the area.

Hermione had been busy in the last two days. In addition to casting an undetectable extension charm on Harry's jacket pocket, in which he was currently hiding the Sword of Gryffindor, she had searched the library in order to find a mode of communication which would be both invisible and undetectable. They had considered using the DA coins at first but the coins could not indicate a location precisely enough to serve their purpose.

Hermione had come across a very old charm which would suit their needs perfectly. After the wizard cast his spell, the pre-determined target would hear a noise which would grow louder as they drew nearer to the wizard. Harry, Ron, and Hermione, with the help of Professor Flitwick, had experimented with it the night before and it had seemed to be working fine.

Harry had been flying for almost four hours when he heard the noise in his ear. He flew in the direction of the noise and soon found himself next to Ron and Hagrid.

"It was Dennis," whispered Ron. "He just disappeared over there," he pointed.

But Harry could still see Dennis. Quickly he grabbed Ron and Hagrid and motioned for them to hide.

"I can see him," whispered Harry for an explanation.

"Wh – what?" asked Ron. "I can't."

"Do you see the cave over there?" asked Harry. "He's walking right towards it."

"We – we don't see anything, mate," said Ron.

A few minutes later, Hermione arrived and crouched behind the bushes with them.

"What have I missed?" she asked.

"He says he can see a cave," said Ron to Hermione.

"Can't you see it?" asked Harry.

"No, Harr,. I can't," she answered, looking in the direction Harry was pointing.

She looked at his hand.

"The ring, Harry! That must be why you can see it! There must be a protection spell on the place."

"Can you break it?"

"Let me try," answered Hermione.

She began murmuring spells under her breath and, after a few minutes, Harry heard Ron gasp.

"Bloody hell! I see it!" he exclaimed.

"Let's go," said Harry, walking towards the cave entrance.

Harry could feel Ginny had just regained consciousness. Her pain was now a dull ache, as if she had grown numb to the pain. She also felt serene and peaceful, as if she knew it was the end and had made her peace with herself. It scared Harry greatly to feel her this way, to know she was on her last few breaths.

Harry arrived at the entrance of the cave and looked behind him. Hermione and Ron were there. As they had previously agreed, Hagrid would be guarding their backs lower down the slope while Ron and Hermione would remain out of sight under the Invisibility Cloak. They figured it was better for Alecto to try and only bewitch one of them and, since Harry was the strongest of the three, it was only logical he should be the one to go in first.

Harry walked in and once his vision adjusted to the darkness, the sight greeting him horrified him. Alecto, Amycus and Antonin were there, facing the entrance, waiting for him. In one corner, Dennis laid unconscious next to a first year Gryffindor who stood still, as if paralyzed. It was the little girl he had seen in the village a few months before. In another corner, Harry could see Ginny lying on the ground. Her left foot and right arm were at a wrong angle. Her face and what he could see of her body through her torn clothes were red and purple with multiple cuts and bruises. Her left eye was swollen shut. She was dirty and soiled. She looked up at him as if she could not comprehend what she was seeing.

"Harry Potter!" said Alecto with a cold smile. "We were waiting for you. It seems our bait has worked," she said, indicating Dennis and Ginny.

"Release them," said Harry.

"Of course, I will do no such thing," said Alecto amused. "You see, they were all so useful," she gloated, pointing to Ginny's ring.

Her face changed from a cold smile to an evil scroll.

"Poor _Potter_! Couldn't resist playing the hero again, couldn't you? I knew by leaving this ring on her, you would run to the rescue. I knew everything we did to her, you would feel and it would fuel your desire to run right into our waiting hands. Lucky for us, you ran quick enough, otherwise, she would have died."

Harry, in his anger, took a step forward and reached for his wand.

"Stop!" said Alecto, and just in time, his hand almost to his wand, Harry stopped, realising Alecto had undoubtedly used the ring. He felt a tingling sensation for a few seconds and then it passed, leaving Harry with no doubt Alecto's ring would have no more effects on him.

"Let me explain a thing or two to you, while you listen to me patiently," began Alecto, using the power of the ring again. "You, Harry _Potter_, have destroyed the Dark Lord and everything we believed in. You, Harry _Potter,_ have fraternized with filthy Muggles and Mugbloods, and you, Harry _Potter,_ are the one responsible for the destruction of our master's vision.

"For this, _Harry Potter_, you will pay... you will pay by destroying the world you tried so hard to save. You will pay by doing our binding and bringing down Shacklebolt's government. You will pay by helping us bring the next Dark Lord to power.

"Now, come to me, Harry Potter!" she ordered.

Harry, pretending to fight a compulsion he didn't feel, began to slowly walk towards her.

"Is it wise, Alecto?" asked Amycus worried. "What if he is not bewitched? What if he can fight the ring and is only pretending?"

"Stop!" she ordered Harry, who stopped instantly.

She turned to her brother.

"You have a point. Let's try something else," she said. "Cast a Cruciatus Curse on her!" she ordered Harry, pointing to Ginny.

Despair in his eyes, Harry walked slowly towards Ginny. He was trying to buy time, to be close enough to Alecto so he could do something, anything, before he had to hurt Ginny. But Alecto was too well protected. Antonin and Amycus were in his way, and had their wand raised and pointed towards him. With tears in his eyes, he slowly raised his wand and said "_Crucio_."

Nothing happened.

"You need to mean it, boy!" yelled Alecto.

Harry whispered the spell again but he could not find it in his heart to mean it. However, Ginny twitched on the floor, her mouth opened in a silent scream, as if the curse had really touched her. Mercifully, she passed out within a few seconds and Harry lowered his wand, knowing they were now on borrowed time, that Ginny wouldn't last another five minutes. He could feel her slowly fading away and his heart constricted in pain at the thought of losing her.

"See, Amycus," purred Alecto, approaching Harry from behind. "Mr Potter is now under our complete control," she added, putting her ringed hand on his shoulder.

Harry knew it was now or never. He grabbed the sword hidden in his pocket and, pulling it out, he swirled around, effectively severing Alecto's hand right between the wrist and the elbow. On the back swing, he caught her wand effectively preventing her from casting any spells.

"Now!" he yelled to Ron and Hermione.

Harry heard them yell the '_Expelliarmus'_ spell, and Amycus and Antonin's wands flew in the air. Hermione and Ron were running towards him when he suddenly felt Ginny exhale her last breath.

"Ginny!" he screamed, running to her. "Ginny!"

She was so broken, he didn't know where to start, he didn't know what would make her better. He cast the only spell that came to his mind, the same spell Snape had used when Harry had cast a '_Sectumsempra'_ spell on Draco Malfoy.

"_Vulnera Sanentur_,"he whispered, over and over again, pouring all the love he felt in his casting, floating his wand over Ginny's broken body.

He had never wanted something as much as saving her life.

He didn't know how long he whispered the spell but suddenly, he felt her breathe again, as if her life had stopped seeping away and was slowly returning to her.

Hermione was next to him, working frantically to stop the bleeding.  
"Hagrid!" she yelled.

Hagrid came crashing in, his big frame barely fitting into the cave.

"Hagrid, take care of this garbage," she said, showing the prisoners who were held at wand point by Ron despite the Body-Bind Hex they had casted on them. "Take them out of here and make sure they don't escape!

"Ron!" she called, turning to Ron. "Go get your mum and Madam Pomfrey. She needs care now or she'll die!"

Ron ran out of the cave and Harry heard the loud crack of somebody Disapparating. Ron came back a few minutes later with Madam Pomfrey and Mrs Weasley, who moved Harry and Hermione out of the way.

"Oh! Poor thing," whispered Madam Pomfrey. "Oh, poor thing."

Harry felt to the floor and began to cry. Ginny's life force was so low, he could not help to think she may not make it despite his best efforts. He cried like he had when Dumbledore had died at the bottom of the Astronomy Tower. Hermione and Ron put their arms around him and cried also.

Harry did not know how long he stayed there, on the floor, but eventually Hagrid returned with a stretcher and Professor McGonagall in tow. Harry could feel Ginny through the ring but barely.

Madam Pomfrey took her wand and levitated Ginny to the stretcher, and then, levitated the stretcher out of the cave. Professor McGonagall went to Dennis and the first year Gryffindor who were no longer under spell and directed them out of the cave. Mrs Weasley stood up and looked at the three figures prostrated on the ground.

"Come, children," she said gently, helping them to their feet.

Harry then saw the severed hand on the floor with the ring still on its finger. He took the sword and, standing up, brought the sword down on the ring. The ring and the finger on which it was, split in two effectively destroying the ring. Harry took the two ring pieces and looked up. Mrs Weasley, Hermione and Ron were looking at him gravely.

"Come now," said Mrs Weasley gently.

Harry followed them out of the cave.


	27. Chapter 26 The Healing

Thank you Arpad, my wonderul beta.

And to my readers, please take a look at my OC story: A World Divided.

Thank you all

CHAPTER 26 – The Healing

Ginny was so badly injured that it was judged unwise to transfer her to St. Mungo's. As a consequence, a team of Healers was sent to Hogwarts to give her the most urgent care, and then two Healers were assigned to stay with her around the clock and make sure she was healing properly. Harry was admitted to see her only once since she was found the day before as the Healers severely restricting the visits.

"Mr Potter, I do not know how you saved her," said Madam Pomfrey during his visit. "No spell should have been enough to revive her. It's a miracle she actually survived at all."

Ginny still looked so awful Harry could not contain his tears. He wanted to touch her, to feel her, but he didn't know where he could without adding to her pain.

"Her left hand," suggested Madam Pomfrey, who saw his hesitation.

Harry moved on the right side of the bed and took Ginny's left hand in his, their ring touching.

"I love you, Ginevra Molly Weasley," he whispered when Madam Pomfrey had walked back to her office. "I love you and I want you to live. But if you decide to go," he continued with a broken voice, "I – I will let you."

"Harry," she whispered, and sank back into unconsciousness.

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"Harry, your love saved her," said Hermione, when he told her and Ron what Madam Pomfrey had said to him. "I was there, and even I could feel your power. I think any spell you would have used would have done it. The spell was not important; the power behind it was."

"She's right, you know!" agreed Ron. "It was so thick, we could have touched it. Listen, mate, if she ever survives this, I swear I'm not going to say anything against you two dating, ever again."

"I'll hold you to that," said George who had joined them in the Teacher's Lounge.

"And so will I," added Hermione.

Harry smiled sadly, wondering if they would have to really hold Ron to his promise.

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It was harder to go back to teaching the following Monday, as Ginny was still unconscious in the Hospital Wing, but there were no helping it. The end of the school year was fast approaching and Harry needed to make sure his students were ready for their exams.

As if they could sense Harry's distress, the students were very subdued and well-behaved, making Harry's job a lot easier. They all knew Ginny because of her Daily Prophet articles, and they all loved and respected her.

After class, the Healers had finally relented on their objections to Harry visiting Ginny again. Mrs Weasley had told them she would forgo her own visiting rights for Harry to be allowed in, if need be. Under the piercing stare of Mrs Weasley, they finally agreed to let him in.

Harry slowly walked into the Hospital Wing. Ginny was still pale and he could see numerous bruises on her face but her eye was no longer swollen. Harry slowly sat on the bed, next to her and took her hand in his.

"Hi," he said quietly.

To his surprised, Ginny's eyes slowly opened.

"Harry," she whispered.

"Hi," he said again with a smile. "How do you feel?"

"Like… the… Hogwarts… Express… has… rolled… over me," she whispered slowly. "And... you?"

"Relieved," he said. "I – I didn't want you to die."

"I know… I… did… not want… to… leave… you... Harry... It... hurts."

"I know, my love," said Harry, caressing the side of her face gently. "It will hurt for a while."

Ginny sighed.

"I love you, Ginevra Molly Weasley," whispered Harry.

"And I… you… Harry… James… Potter," she whispered, closing her eyes.

She closed her eyes and felt asleep. Harry stayed with her until Madame Pomfrey chased him away. He was still smiling when he found Ron and Hermione in the Teacher's Lounge. They were eating a late dinner with Mrs Weasley.

"She woke up," he told them with a radiant smile. "However, she said she's in pain."

"She did?" asked Mrs Weasley surprised. "Did you tell Poppy?"

"No," answered Harry. "Why?"

"Because it's good news, Harry... Well not the pain part, but the waking part," said Mrs Weasley, standing up and hugging him. "Let me go tell Poppy."

She left and Harry went to sit at the table. He took a plate and served himself some sandwiches and salad.

"Nice to see you eat again, mate," said Ron with a grin. "At this rate, you'll be eating more than me."

Harry looked at his plate and noticed how much food he had actually helped himself to.

"Yeah," he said with a smile and started eating. "Any of you know what happened with the Death Eaters?" he asked between two bites.

Between waiting outside the Hospital Wing for news of Ginny and his classes, he hadn't kept up with what happened to any of them. As long as they were caught, it was all that he had cared about.

"They're in Azkaban," answered Ron. "I think Hagrid roughed them up some."

"Good!" said Harry, biting into a sandwich.

"Harry!" reprimanded Hermione.  
"When you see Ginny, Hermione, you'll see how much they deserve it," said Harry non-apologetically. "How are the students who were bewitched? I didn't get to see any of them either."

"Very upset, especially Sage," answered Hermione. "He is very ashamed and Professor McGonagall has spent most of the day with him.

"The Slytherin, Jocelyn MacArthur, is also upset since he wasn't able to study and get his OWLs last year. He has asked, and been granted, permission to take them again. He will be tutored this summer so he can catch up as much as possible for next year.

"Joanna Sharp, the first-year Gryffindor, is also very upset. She's the one who got the ring from Professor McGonagall's pocket. She has also spent a lot of time with Professor McGonagall and also with Connor, surprisingly enough. Apparently, she has the power to make herself forgotten or ignored by most people. She used to do it at home because of her family situation. Professor Flitwick thinks it is a hiding charm of some sort. It seems the only people who could remember her were Professor McGonagall and Connor," explained Hermione. "I could remember seeing her but I could never remember her name."

Harry nodded as it was also the case for him.

"What about Dennis?" he asked.

"He brushed it off, the git," said Ron. "He's really like Cormac, it's pathetic. Can you believe he hit on Hermione today?"

"It doesn't really surprise me," said Harry, chuckling.

"The git went all 'Oh! Professor, you look awful! Can I comfort you?'" said Ron, imitating the Hufflepuff boy's voice.

Hermione laugh amused.

"He was not that bad," she said.

"Of course he was!" protested Ron. "You're Committed, by Merlin's beard!"

Harry suddenly stopped laughing and, after a few seconds of concentrating, a wide smile appeared on his face.

"She's awake again," he said, standing up. "Let's go see her."

"You think they'll let us?" asked Ron.

Without answering, Harry ran to the Hospital Wing followed by the other two.

"Mr Potter!" said Madam Pomfrey as she walked out of the hospital. "Good! She's been asking for you."

Harry walked in followed by Hermione and Ron. As they drew closer, he heard a loud gasp from Hermione, which alarmed Ginny. Harry turned to Hermione with a reproving frown and saw her put her hands on her mouth.

"Hermione, you're alarming her!" he whispered urgently.

Hermione lowered her hands and tried to smile.

"Hi," said Harry, sitting on the bed next to Ginny, and taking her hand in his.

"Do I… look… that… bad?" she asked, wincing in pain.  
"Well, to tell you the truth, you look downright awful," said Ron in a light tone.

"Thanks… Ron," she said with a small smile. "Harry… wouldn't… have… told me. What… happened? How… did you… find… me?"

They spent some time with her, talking quietly. She mostly kept her eyes closed but her small smiles were indication she was listening. Madam Pomfrey came to chase them away about fifteen minutes later.

"Harry," called Ginny, opening her eyes. "Please… stay."

Harry looked at Madam Pomfrey who nodded unhappily. He sat back down and waved to Ron and Hermione as they departed.

"I… I wish… you… could… hold me," she said.

Harry lied down on his side next to her, as close as he could so she could feel him along her body. Then, gently, he put his arm across her.

"That's… better," she said and closed her eyes.

Mrs Weasley woke him up a few hours later to send him to his bed.

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Harry had just started teaching his fifth-year Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff class on Tuesday morning when he suddenly felt a sense of alarm and fear coming from Ginny. He was in a middle of answering a question when the feeling made him completely loose his train of thoughts.

"Professor, what's wrong?" asked Jen, a fifth-year Ravenclaw, after a few seconds of silence.

Harry looked at her and tried to smile but failed miserably.

"It's Miss Weasley, isn't it?" asked Laurian, a fifth-year Hufflepuff. "Professor, go to her," she said before he answered. "We'll still be here when you return."

His students murmured and nodded their agreement. Harry realised most of these students actually had known Ginny when she attended Hogwarts and cared about her.

"Thank you, all. It's very nice of you," he said sincerely. "Please, I would only ask that you do not use magic while I'm gone," he added and left the room.

He almost ran to the infirmary. He found it empty except for Ginny, who was fearfully looking towards Madam Pomfrey closed office door.

"Ginny, what's wrong?" he asked, sitting next to her.

"They… they want to… transfer me to… St. Mungo's," she said slowly and with difficulty, as if in greater pain. "The Healers… have been… complaining. They… don't want… to come here… anymore. Harry, please… don't let them," she begged with fear in her eyes, on the verge of tears. "I… I cannot… be surrounded… by strangers… right now. I'm… safe here," she added with a wince.

Harry could not blame her fear of being surrounded by people she didn't know. Ginny was a brave woman but after spending an entire week being mistreated and tortured like she just did, he wouldn't want to be surrounded by strangers in a place he barely knew either. There were limits to a person's bravery and Harry understood Ginny had reached hers. Now, she just needed to feel safe and get better.

"I'll take care of it," he said, with a reassuring smile and caressing her cheek. "Now, don't worry anymore, okay?"

"Okay," she said, closing her eyes.

He stood up and walked to Madam Pomfrey's office. He was so angry he didn't even bother to knock. As he walked in, he saw a very unhappy Madam Pomfrey, two stern St. Mungo's representatives, and a worried Mrs Weasley in discussion.

"What's going on?" he asked, closing the door behind him and casting a _Muffiato_ on it.

He did not want Ginny to hear the conversation. She did not need to have this extra worry.

"Nothing, Harry, dear," answered Mrs Weasley with an attempt to be light, which failed miserably. "We were discussing how to better transfer Ginny to St. Mungo's."

"Ginny. Is. Not. Being. Transferred," he said, his teeth clenched in anger, looking at the two St. Mungo's representatives.

His anger was so deep the light began to flicker and the windows to rattle.

"Harry, dear, be reasonable…" began Mrs Weasley.

"Mrs Weasley," he interrupted her. "You know I have the greatest respect for you, but I will fight you on this, and marry Ginny right now if that's what it takes for me to overrule you. Ginny does _not_ want to go to St. Mungo's, nor is she anywhere near ready to be surrounded by total strangers in a place she doesn't know."

"Mr Potter," said one of the St. Mungo's representatives. "The administrative board has ruled. St. Mungo's can no longer afford sending its Healers over to…"

"Listen to me, and listen very carefully," said Harry in a tone so cold the two St. Mungo's representatives took a step back. "I _do not_ care about your politics or your administration. I _do not_ care about how your Healers feel about taking the Floo network to Hogwarts every day and I surely _do not_ care about your administrative board. Ginny Weasley is _not _leaving this hospital wing even if I have to empty my vault in Gringotts for her to remain here. Am I making myself clear?"

Madam Pomfrey looked at him with a beaming smile while Mrs Weasley appraised Harry with the eye of a mother who just understood how much her daughter was truly loved. One of the St. Mungo's representatives was looking at his shoes while the other one was still staring at Harry.

"Our Healers don't want to come any longer," he said defiantly.

"Then I don't want them around here anymore either, since they obviously value their comforts more than their patients," said Harry shortly. "I want Theorus Troovus taking care of Ginny from now on. At least, Healer Troovus has his priorities straight and cares about his patients."

"Healer Troovus? From Unidentified Ailment?" said the representative who had been looking at his shoes. "But… but he's a lunatic!" he exclaimed.

"I see you _are_ judging a book by its cover, sir, and you cannot recognise that eccentricity is _not_ a characteristic by which to judge the skills of a Healer," said Harry in his cold and hard tone. "You _are_ going to fetch him... now."

The Representative just stared at Harry.

"What part of 'now' don't you understand?" asked Harry after a few seconds.

The Representative left and Harry turned to the other one.

"Also, _sir_," said Harry, "when you go back to your office, I would tell the person who made the decision to transfer Ginny under threats of stopping on-site treatments to start packing his office. I am pretty sure when I inform the Minister, somebody will find themselves facing the wrong side of the door, especially in lights of their doubtful dedication to patients.

"I think we do not need you anymore," added Harry, dismissing him.

The second Representative left and Harry sighed, closing his eyes.

"Harry, dear, did you really have to say all this?" asked Mrs Weasley gently.

Harry opened his eyes and looked at both women with a sad smile.

"Mrs Weasley, if you had felt half of the fear and terror I felt when Ginny heard she was to be transferred, you would have added to Madam Pomfrey's work load," he answered. "Mrs Weasley, Ginny is afraid and the last thing she needs right now is to be worried. At least, here, she is in a place she knows, surrounded by people who know and love her.

"Everybody knows Hogwarts is about the safest place there is in the wizarding world," he added. "Why would we want her anywhere else?"

"You're a good man, Harry Potter," said Mrs Weasley, squeezing his shoulder with affection. "And I'm glad Ginny has you."

Harry walked out of the office in time to see Healer Troovus walked through the doors of the hospital.

"Healer Troovus," he said with a sincere smile, shaking the Healer's hand. "How nice to see you."

"Harry Potter!" said Healer Troovus, returning Harry's smile. "So you _are_ the man who drove the fear of Merlin into Administrator Nelson?"

"Oh! That's his name," said Harry with an amused smile.

"So, what can I help you with?" asked Healer Troovus.

"Well, you remember my girlfriend, Ginny?" asked Harry.

"Oh! Yes! Pretty redhead with sparkling brown eyes. How is she?"

"Well, not so well," answered Harry, looking towards the bed where Ginny was lying, her face set in pain, tears running down her eyes.

Healer Troovus looked in the same direction.

"Oh! Dear Merlin!" he said, walking towards Ginny with concern in his face. "What happened to you, my poor child?" he asked, not daring to touch her before he knew more about her condition.

Madam Pomfrey and Mrs Weasley joined them while Ginny explained what happened and the pain she was still feeling. Madam Pomfrey also explained the injuries she had observed and the treatments administered.

"That's all those incompetents did?" asked Healer Troovus shocked and angry.

Madam Pomfrey nodded sadly.

"Ginny, my dear, would you let me examine you?" he asked Ginny.

Ginny nodded.

"Madam Pomfrey, I would appreciate your assistance. Mr Potter, Mrs Weasley, please wait outside."

Hesitantly, Harry followed Mrs Weasley out the door.

"Harry, where did you meet him?" asked Mrs Weasley curiously, once the door was closed behind them.

"He's the one who treated Mr McKeithan's eyes," answered Harry. "He may look like a crazy scientist, but he is good and his heart is in the right place."

"Harry, dear, what is a scientist?"

Harry laughed not only at Mrs Weasley's question, which sounded so much like Mr Weasley's, but also because he felt an immense relief, and sense of security and trust coming from Ginny. After a few minutes, Madam Pomfrey came to get them.

"Harry, I wish you had called for me a lot sooner," said Healer Troovus. "It is a wonder your young lady here has not passed out from pain! Had it not been from Madam Pomfrey's knowledge of pain management, she would be! Her internal injuries have barely been treated," he continued.

And he went into a lengthy explanation of all the injuries he had found and had been overlooked by the two previous Healers.

"Let me tell you; somebody will hear about this at the hospital," said Healer Troovus angry. "This negligence borders on criminality!

"But we are on the right track now," he said, looking at Ginny and smiling at her. "I will stay for the rest of the morning and give Miss Weasley some of the care she should have received already. And Madam Pomfrey will prepare a new potion regime. However, healing will take time."

"Yes, Mr Potter," confirmed Madam Pomfrey with a reassuring smile. "Time for Miss Weasley to sleep and you to go back to your class."

Madam Pomfrey, Mrs Weasley, and Healer Troovus walked further away to give Harry and Ginny some privacy before he returned to his classroom.

"Ginny, are you okay?" he asked her worried.

"It… hurts, Harry, so… much," she said, silent tears of pain coming out of her eyes.

"Why didn't you say something to me this morning, my love?" he asked gently, beating himself up for not seeing the signs of pain on her face when he had come in earlier, and for not recognising the weak pain signal he was receiving through the ring.

"They… told me… it was… normal… and I… didn't… want to… worry you."

"Will you be okay with Healer Troovus? Do you want me to get somebody else?"

"No," she whispered. "I like… Healer Troovus… I think… he'll listen… to me and… not dismiss… me when… I tell him… something is… wrong."

"I love you, Ginevra Molly Weasley," he said, kissing her forehead.

"I love… you… Harry… James… Potter," she whispered back.

"I'll be back at lunch," he said, standing up with a smile.

She smiled at him and closed her eyes. Harry walked to the door and Healer Troovus walked out with him.

"Mr Potter," he said very seriously once the door was closed behind them. "You need to know if you hadn't got me, she would have died within a day, maybe two at most."

Harry looked at Healer Troovus horrified.

"These men, wanting to move her to St. Mungo's and making you angry enough to request for me, are the best thing that happened to her. Needless to say, the move _would_ have killed her.

"Harry, I want you to file a formal complaint on her behalf with the hospital and the Ministry. This is very, very serious, and I'm afraid during the Death Eater occupation, certain recruited Healers were not in fact Healers. These incompetents are usually known to the most qualified of us but for a reason or another, our administration tends to turn a blind eye on them, and they do get assigned to cases they shouldn't be assigned to.

"Usually, gravely injured patients are assigned two Healers in rotation of twelve hour shifts. If one of the two is incompetent, at least the other one gives proper care, and the patient can recover, which, unfortunately for us, also hides the fact one of the Healers is a fraud.

"What is unfortunate in Ginny's case is that both Healers assigned to her are from the incompetent group, so she was basically receiving only the care Madam Pomfrey was giving her. Madam Pomfrey's skill is the only reason she is still alive.

"Harry, we need you to make a formal complaint. We have complained ourselves but have been largely ignored. If you were to complain, I think we would stand a chance to fix this mess because they _will_ listen to you and you have the ear of the Minister, which we don't.

"Harry, will you please do it?"

"Yes, Healer Troovus," said Harry very seriously, liking the fact that for once, his enormous popularity would benefit a lot of innocent victims. "I will. After class, I'll send a letter to the Minister explaining what happened and asking him for a full inquiry."

"Thank you, Harry," said Healer Troovus, smiling in relief. "It means a lot to us."

That night, after visiting Ginny who was sleeping deeply under the effect of a sleeping draught, Harry sent a letter to the Minister asking for a full inquiry in the St. Mungo's administration and healing staff.


	28. Chapter 27 The Remission

CHAPTER 27 – The Remission

Harry went through the rest of his week just happy Ginny was alive and getting better under the care of Healer Troovus. His students seemed to be as euphoric as he was. A few of them had even gone to visit her but when the word got out, Madam Pomfrey wanted to put a stop to it. However, when Mrs Weasley saw how receiving visitors had lifted Ginny's spirit, she overruled Madam Pomfrey and, with the help of Healer Troovus, worked a compromise: Ginny could receive five ten-minute visits a day. A schedule was posted on the infirmary door and was filled in less than ten minutes, mostly by Quidditch players. When Harry found out Connor had not been able to put his name on the list, he had sought him out and brought him during his own visiting time.

"You saved my life, I heard," Ginny told him on Thursday evening.

She was still very weak and very much in pain mostly due to her multiple internal injuries but she looked a lot better. Her voice was still very low, as she had screamed herself raw during her ordeal but she no longer needed to take breaths between each words.

Upon hearing her, Connor's eyes tear up.

"I wish I could have saved you sooner," he said with a broken voice.

"Don't cry, Connor," she said. "If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't be here at all. Hermione told me how brave you were. Come here."

He walked to her and put his head on her shoulder. Ginny winced a little but let him cry, gently caressing his back with her uninjured hand.

"It was so hard to see what they've done to you," he said between sobs.

"Yes, I know," she said, patting his shoulder. "But it's over now, and they are all in Azkaban. We have to be strong and move on, okay?"

A few minutes later, Connor left and Harry sat next to her.

"I have another visitor for you, my love," said Harry when he heard the door of the infirmary open again.

Ginny looked towards the door to see Ollivander standing there, with a large smile on his face and a huge bag on his back.

"Mr Ollivander?" she asked Harry intrigued.  
"Ron found the pieces of your wand in the cave while searching it with the Aurors on Monday, and he told me about it," explained Harry. "I figured having a wand would make you feel a lot better and Healer Troovus agreed with me."

"And, young lady, when Mr Potter came to me yesterday and asked me to come, of course I was only happy to oblige. After all, he did save my life and coming to you is very little to ask indeed."

Ginny smiled warmly at the old man.

"Shall we begin?" asked Ollivander, setting his bag on the bed next to Ginny's.

The crashing sound of bottles for Ginny's first trial made Madam Pomfrey storm out of her office in panic.

"Oh!" she said when she saw Ollivander, and walked back into her office, slamming her door.

Ginny had tried half the bag when Ollivander looked at her with a frown.

"I had brought wands which were similar to your first, Miss Weasley, but obviously, that would not do. Let me… "

But Ollivander was interrupted by Blanche, Ginny's white kneazle, who had just walked into the infirmary and jumped on Ginny's bed at her feet. The cat looked up at Ollivander and seemed to wait. The old man looked back at the cat with a frown and recognition suddenly crossed his face.

"I'll be right back!" he said and left the Hospital Wing at a quick walk.

Puzzled, Harry and Ginny looked at one another.

"I wonder what this is all about," said Harry, turning to look at the now closed door.

"I don't know," said Ginny.

Ollivander came back, ten minutes later, covered in ashes from the Floo network, carrying a single box. He had a huge smile on his face. He opened the box and gave Ginny a black wand elegantly carved.

"Wow!" said Harry, impressed at the workmanship.

Ginny took the offered wand in her hand and glowed with the warm light associated with a perfect wizard-wand match.

"Ah!" said Ollivander with a satisfied expression. "10 ¾ inches, ebony wood with a core of Kneazle tail hair."

"Kneazle?" asked Harry. "Kneazle hair can be used for wand core?"

"Of course, Mr Potter. Any magical creature hair can be used for wand core," answered Ollivander. "Only, I usually do not use them. But this hair comes from _that_ kneazle," he said, pointing to Blanche who was new curled up and purring loudly.

"Blanche?" asked Ginny.

"Yes," answered Ollivander. "She came to my shop about two months ago and she was rather persistent. She would always fetch the same piece of ebony, put it on my work table, and sit next to it, as if waiting for me. I was working on another wand at the time so I didn't immediately paid attention to her. Well, on the fourth morning, I came to my shop to find her and her piece of ebony on my work table again. I think she was getting impatient with me as she hid the wand I was working on," added Ollivander with a chuckle. "Of course, she insisted on all the carvings. It took me almost two months to complete it and once I was done, she gave me back the wand I had been working on before she arrived.

"Miss Weasley, this wand is a very interesting combination. You see, the ebony represents strength and possesses great magical energy. As for the kneazle, it represents intelligence, and a sense of independence. It is also very loyal to the people it loves, in addition to have an uncanny instinct for detecting untrustworthy people. Now, what makes your wand so interesting, Miss Weasley, is the combination of this wood and your cat. You see, this wood is pure black while your kneazle is pure white. This make for an interesting dichotomy: the yin and the yang of the Chinese culture, or a balance of sorts."

"What does it mean?" asked Ginny.

"I think it means, Miss Weasley, that you will become, if you are not already, an agent of balance," answered Ollivander.

And Harry could see that happening. In fact, Ginny was already the light in his life and was balancing the horrors and the darkness he saw as an Auror.

"When you have a moment this summer, stop by and let me know how this wand is working for you."

With his huge bag on his back, Ollivander left them with a satisfied smile.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" asked Ginny, looking at the wand she was still holding.

"Yes, but not as beautiful as you," said Harry with a smile, which she returned.

"I'm being moved to your room Saturday morning," she announced.

"You're what? How? I mean, how come?" he asked happily surprised but worried at the same time.

"I asked to spend the weekend with you," she said. "Mum said yes and Madam Pomfrey said absolutely not. These two don't seem to agree on anything. So they argued like two eleven year olds and Healer Troovus told them I get to spend twenty-four hours with you, just the two of us… and the regular visits from Healer Troovus and Madam Pomfrey."

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Saturday morning, just after breakfast, Ginny was discreetly moved to Harry's suite.

"I want no activities of any kind!" said Madam Pomfrey severely, as Ginny was carried on a stretcher to Harry's room. "No activity, no excitement, no visitors, and no keeping her awake!" she added, looking at Harry intently. "The only reason I agreed to this _insane_ idea is to prevent a riot in my Hospital Wing! If I think my instructions are not followed to the letter, I will move her back quicker than you can say 'hospital'! Am I clear?"

"Yes, Ma'am," answered Harry, rather intimidated.

Most of the day, Ginny slept and Harry sat by the fireplace correcting student's papers. Since the following week would be the exams, he held two hours of office time for his students in the afternoon. Very few students came, but Connor did, and Harry hushed him up the stairs to 'watch over Ginny'. With his chest puffed with pride, Connor sat in Harry's chair by the fireplace with his Defence book on his lap, studying while keeping an eye on her. When Harry's office hours were over, Connor reported Ginny had woken up once, drank some of the potion Madam Pomfrey had left her, spoken for a few minutes, and gone back to sleep. Connor left with the promise he wouldn't tell a soul where Ginny was.

Healer Troovus who, accompanied by Madam Pomfrey, visited them that evening, was very happy and surprised by Ginny's progress. Her cheeks had more colours in them, and she looked like she had rested a lot better than before.

"Is your sleep as agitated, my dear?" he asked.

"No," she answered with a smile.

Harry frowned in concern. He hadn't known Ginny's sleep was agitated. Healer Troovus probed her arms and legs, and when it was time to examine her chest, Harry was pointedly asked by Madam Pomfrey to step outside. Harry obliged her, amused that Madam Pomfrey seemed to think he had never seen Ginny naked before.

About fifteen minutes later, Healer Troovus left greatly satisfied with Ginny's progress.

"Harry, do you know what I would really like," Ginny asked him when the sun had set. "I would love a bath."

"A bath?" he asked her surprised. "Are you sure you're up to it?"

"No, but it would feel really good."

Harry wondered how to take her down to the teacher's bathroom, which was the closest, when he remembered the stretcher in his office. After placing Ginny on it and levitating her, he covered her with his Invisibility Cloak as he was sure Madam Pomfrey would have a fit if she knew what he was doing. Luckily, they did not meet anyone on their way to the bathroom, which was mercifully deserted.

Harry drew the bath and helped Ginny out of her sleeping gown. It took every ounce of his willpower for him not to cry when he saw her battered body. She was covered in nasty gashes and bruises the size of Quaffle balls. No wonder the simplest touch was painful to her.

"It looks worse than it is," she said.

Somehow, Harry doubted that very much.

He removed his own clothes and, picking her up in his arms, walked into the huge floor basin now filled with warm water and bubbles. Ginny winced as the water hit her skin but soon smiled contently. Harry set one floating cushion behind Ginny's neck, one under each of her knees and one under the small of her back which allowed her to float with no efforts. He then took the shampoo and washed her hair, massaging her skull slowly.

"Mmmh! That feels good," she said blissfully.

Once her hair was washed and rinsed, he washed every inch of her as gently as he could.

The water was getting cold when he was done so he took her in his arms and put her back on the stretcher, dried her with a flick of his wand, and helped her into a freshly-washed sleeping gown. He then got dressed himself.

They made their way back to his quarters without encountering anyone. When they reached his bedroom, Ginny had fallen asleep and he set her gently on his bed.

He was correcting papers when she woke up again a few hours later.

"Harry, can I sit by the fire with you?" she asked.

"Are you sure you'll be okay?" he asked.

"Yes," she answered.

Harry picked her in his arms and sat down on his stuffed chair, holding her against his chest. She winced, and was now panting in more pain than she had been earlier in the bathroom, which worried Harry who was afraid their little escapade had aggravated her injuries. She finally found a comfortable position and, with her head on Harry's shoulder, began to relax.

"Ginny," he said after a few minutes of silence. "I don't want to see you suffer like this ever again. I realise being with me is not the safest thing in the world, and I would rather see you safe than hurt again…"

"Harry Potter!" she interrupted him. "Don't you go all noble on me right now! In case it hadn't occurred to you, I cannot live without you! So, yes, being with you may put me in danger because some deranged person may want to get to you. But being without you would kill my heart and my soul.

"So what is it going to be: me maybe in danger from time to time or me dead inside with no hope of ever be happy?" she asked, panting hard with the effort of saying all this quickly enough so he wouldn't interrupt her.

"What I was about to say is I love you," he said quickly, surprised by her outburst. "What I would find less tolerable than being without you is to see you die without knowing how much I really do love you," he added, a lot calmer. "Ginny, you are the sunshine of my life, and I would very much want you to become my wife."

"Oh!" Ginny exclaimed.

And Harry could feel through his ring that she was very much surprised and overwhelmingly happy at the same time.

"Harry, are you – are you asking me to… marry you?" she asked to make sure she had really understood him.

"Yes, I'm asking you to marry me," he answered.

She raised her head and looked him in the eyes, tears of joy running down her cheeks.

"Yes, Harry!" she answered, smiling through her tears. "I would be honoured to become your wife," she added and she kissed him tenderly.

She put back her head on his shoulder and Harry took her left hand in his. He took the ring from her Committed finger and moved it to her Promised finger. Ginny did the same with his ring.

"Harry," she asked after a little while being silent. "When?"

"Yesterday would be great," he answered lightly.

"Do we have to get a time-turner from the Ministry then?" she asked with a chuckle.

"This is quite an idea but I don't think your mum would like it much," he said with a smile. "So, as soon as you're up to it, I'm ready," he added.

"What about the first weekend in August?" she asked. "That would make for a great birthday present for the both of us."

"I agree," he said, kissing her hair.

That night, he set her in his bed and slept right next to her, making sure he wouldn't inadvertently hurt her, holding her hand in his.

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It took a week for people to notice the rings on their fingers were no longer in the same position.

Ginny, who had forcefully insisted she was well enough to attend the Quidditch game between Gryffindor and Harry's team, was now dressed and being moved to a floating chair. Harry knew she was not well enough to attend, but he also saw the wisdom in supporting her with her choice. Madam Pomfrey and Mrs Weasley had had another argument about it, and again, Healer Troovus had to intervene. This time, the compromise was for Ginny to attend for no more than three hours. A canopy would also be installed over her so she was protected from the sun, and she would take a fortifying potion every half-hour. In addition, Healer Troovus had assigned a Healer-in-Training to attend with her, and bring her back at the first sign of fatigue. She was to remain as calm as possible and asked to be brought back if she needed to sleep. Finally, she was prevented from interviewing the players or working on an article after the game. Hermione, who knew how important the articles were for the school and for Ginny, had secretly promised to write it for her, and send it to the Daily Prophet after Ginny's review and approval. Ginny had beamed with joy at the idea as after her Quidditch career, she was strongly considering a career as a reporter. Besides, Hogwarts was considered _her_ territory.

To Ginny's surprise and delight, she found that her usual seat in the stands had been replaced by a very comfortable padded chair. She was waiting for the game to begin when Harry came to her, in his Quidditch uniform, and with his broom over his shoulder.

"This one," he said to her ear, "I'll catch it just for you."

He kissed her lightly on the lips and flew down to the field from the stands. A few minutes later, the game began and, to everybody's great surprise and joy, the Gryffindor team really gave the professional team a run for its galleons. And two hours into the game, Harry caught the snitch after a fierce battle with the Gyffindor Seeker, effectively making his team win by 170 points.

Harry flew to Ginny and, hovering in the air above her, leant down to give her the snitch.

"This one is for you, love," he said, "as I promised."

When Ginny reached up with her left hand to get the snitch, Hermione saw her ring and gasped, bringing both of her hands to cover her mouth.

"You're Promised!" she exclaimed.

Ginny, now holding the twitching snitch, grinned at Hermione.

"What?!" asked Mrs Weasley from the seat behind. "My Ginny? Promised?"

Harry did not hear the rest of the conversation as he flew to the changing rooms to shower and change before visiting Ginny in the Hospital Wing. When he arrived, Ginny was already fast asleep, still firmly holding the snitch he had given her. Attending the game had tired her more than she had let on and a very reproving Madam Pomfrey threw them out of the Hospital Wing. For once, Mrs Weasley agreed with Madam Pomfrey and let herself be driven out as well.

"Harry, dear," she said, hugging Harry fiercely once they were in the corridor, "I'm so happy for you and Ginny. Have you decided on a date yet?"

"Ginny didn't tell you?" asked Harry surprised by the question.

"Actually, after you left, she collapsed in her seat in exhaustion," explained Hermione. "She was so exhausted, we didn't dare ask her."

"Oh!" said Harry, looking towards the Hospital Wing door worried.

"Don't look like this, Harry, dear," said Mrs Weasley. "She may be tired but at least, she's happy. Come, let's go eat some lunch in the Great Hall. You can tell us all about it on the way. Besides, the students certainly want to see you."

At they walked towards the Great Hall, Harry told them when and how he had proposed, and the date they had picked.

"But it's less than two months away!" said Mrs Weasley. "It doesn't give me a lot of time to prepare. You will have your wedding at the Burrow, of course!" she told him as if he had no choice in the matter.

"I was hoping you would want us to have it there," he said, beaming at her.

"Of course, dear!" she said. "Why would you even think otherwise?"

Harry smiled gratefully at her.

"I hope Ginny will be fine by then," he said, worried again.

"Of course she will be," said Mrs Weasley without a doubt. "Healer Troovus is really working miracles. Ginny is not yet strong but she's healing very well indeed. I would not be surprised if you are allowed to take her home by next weekend."

Harry hadn't thought of that. The students would be leaving on Monday and the school would be empty again. His year of teaching was over and soon, he would go back to the Auror Department to resume his job.

"I'm sure the Ministry will grant you a nice long vacation after this year," said Mrs Weasley with a smile, as if reading his mind.

"You know?" asked Harry, surprised she knew of his special assignment.

"Of course, I do! Kinglsey told us when Ginny went missing."

"Oh!" said Harry.

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The next morning, when Ginny was still sleeping, Harry made his way to the Great Hall for breakfast. Hermione was already there, accompanied by three other students, obviously flushed with delight.

"Morning," he said, sitting down next to her.

"Morning," she answered. "Did you see the newspaper this morning?"

"Not yet," he answered and she put a copy right in front of him.

He read the front page.

_Hogwarts Quidditch: an event that will go down in history, by Ginny Weasley with the collaboration of Hermione Granger, without whom this article would not have been possible._

"She didn't have to put my name," said Hermione, shyly putting her hair behind her ear. "But it's very nice of her to do so."

Harry read the article and was happy to see the focus was on the Gryffindor players with barely a passing mention of his catching the snitch. It was how it should be, he thought, as they were the real heroes in this story.

Hermione had also reported on the Hogwarts fundraising activities. While Hogwarts coffers were not yet as comfortable as they used to be, they were now sufficient to cover all of the next school year operating expenses, with yet more donations to come in the upcoming weeks. Harry read the conclusion of the article.

_ Quidditch at Hogwarts would never be the same now that the wizarding world has developed a taste for these brilliant youths who may soon join the professional and world teams. And Hogwarts will be more than happy to accommodate all of you, next school year, for its next season of Quidditch._


	29. Chapter 28 Epilogue

A/N: Thanks to all my readers and for following Harry through my version of the two years after the war.

I have begun to post my OC story A World Divided. It may interest you. In a few months, probably December, I will be posting Future Uncertain, which is Connor McKeithan's story. Hopefully, I will see you there as my readers.

Thanks also to my beta Arpad. You're the best!

And finally, thanks JKR for creating such a wonderful world for us to play in.

**Epilogue**

Harry was nervous but happy. He was standing in front of a crowd, next to Ron, his best mate, and was looking down the row of seated people towards the Burrow's kitchen door.

"What's taking so long?" he asked Ron from the corner of his mouth.

"You'll see, mate," answered Ron, with a knowing smile.

The door finally opened. Mr Weasley walked out of the house holding the hand of the most beautiful woman Harry had ever seen, and helped her down the steps to the garden.

"Is that Ginny?" Harry asked Ron surprised.

"Yes, mate," answered Ron amused.

Her long white dress fit her like nothing he had seen her wear, hugging all the right curves, giving just the promise of what was underneath it without revealing too much to the other men in attendance. Her hair was now curled, held away from her face by Aunt Muriel's tiara, and cascading down her back. Her skin was a rich creamy white with the perfect touch of make-up to accentuate her lips. Her sparkling eyes were looking directly at him. Harry was astounded by her beauty and his eyes never left her as, her hand on her father's arm, she slowly made her way towards him to become his wife.

"Wow!" he said to her when she arrived next to him.

"You're not so bad yourself," she said with an amused smile.

"Ahem!" said the elderly wizard in front of them after a few moments of silence in which Harry and Ginny had appreciatively drunk one another.

Harry and Ginny turned to the wizard who performed the wedding ceremony. Harry could not concentrate on what was said, so happy was he. Before he knew it, it was time for him to say his vows. He turned to Ginny and took both of her hands in his.

"Ginevra Molly Weasley," he said, "I love you with all my heart and all my soul. You are the sunshine of my life and I consider myself blessed that you agreed to become my wife, the centre of my universe, my all.

"Ginevra Molly Weasley, I promise to love you, cherish you, and try as hard as I can to make you happy for the rest of your life. That I vow, in front of all these witnesses," he concluded.

"Harry James Potter," she said. "I love you with all of my heart for as long as I have known you. You are my beacon in the dark, and I'm honoured to be standing next to you today to become your wife. I could not live without you as you too, are the centre of my universe.

"Harry James Potter, I promise to love you, cherish you, and make you as happy as I can for the rest of our life. This, I promise in front of all these assembled witness," she concluded.

"The rings!" said the elderly wizard.

Harry took Ginny's hand and changed her ring from her Promised finger to her Married finger. Ginny did the same for him.

"I now declare you husband and wife," said the wizard, waving his wand over their joined hands. "You may now kiss the bride," he told Harry.

Harry leaned forward and, gently taking Ginny's face in his hands, he kissed her.

'I wonder what would happen if I was to say _Expecto Patronum_ right about now,' thought Harry.

As soon as he thought the spell, his Patronus stag ran over the crowd in great leaping jumps, leaving trails of white light behind it, bringing Oh's and Ah's from the crowd.

"I guess there is no doubt about how you feel right about now," said Ginny with a chuckle.

"No, none at all," answered Harry.

And he leant forward to kiss his bride again: Ginevra Molly Potter.


End file.
